


Tell Me A Tale of Magic

by selverya



Category: The Sims (Video Games)
Genre: Embedded Images, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-28
Updated: 2019-10-19
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:33:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 13
Words: 42,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23536093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/selverya/pseuds/selverya
Summary: Cassandra Goth's life is normal, you know, normal for the Goth family. But things take a sudden sharp turn, when secrets from her family's past begin to resurface and old grudges are born anew, and her life becomes a little more eventful than she bargained for. As she navigates growing up and learning who she is, she must also figure out how to stand in the face of adversity, for the sake of her family and maybe all of Magic Realm, and stop an evil that has been growing for generations before it destroys everything.
Relationships: Bella Goth/Mortimer Goth, Morgyn Ember/Cassandra Goth
Kudos: 6





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This a legacy challenge story, so will take forever to be done. Some mild cross-lore inspiration between this one and my other Sims stories, but mostly this is standalone. This is also a slightly different Morgyn, because Ezio is not here and Morgyn is notably different as a result. Not rated because frankly I have no idea how this will go. I'll add tags as I need them, too.  
> I also have images for each chapter, but only one per chapter, not per scene, and these chapters are around 3,000 words long per, so there's a lot of reading but it's shorter than OFAF actually. I started this right after Realm of Magic was released, I got to chapter 13 before my other Sims story took over my life, so I will post to there, and eventually go back to it. Probably whenever the other story is done. I don't know. I do have the rest of generation 0 outlined, so maybe sooner than I think.  
> Incidentally, I actually do know how this one ends, and it's a much lighter tale probably than the other one.

It wasn’t like Cassandra Goth didn’t _like_ school. School was, in and of itself, okay. It was _everyone else_ that went to school. Everyone knew of Bella Goth, Cassandra’s mother. She was a big name anywhere you went, a household name by most stretches of the imagination (rarely had Cassandra met anyone that didn’t know her mother’s name at the very least). Some seemed disappointed that Cassandra seemingly wasn’t as pretty as her mother, and a lot of the time, Cassandra was disappointed, too.

The other kids always said she’d be prettier if she wore less black. What was wrong with black?

School was necessary, though, so Cassandra still went, and still dealt with the football-heads with nothing better to do than hang around the hallways like creeps and make weird, unwarranted comments about everyone’s appearance, and the homecoming and prom queens often gossiped in the bathroom, and _someone_ kept writing borderline-bullying propaganda on the bathroom stalls. High school was one of those situations that was unavoidable but you’d just rather not think about.

Her father, Mortimer Goth, was also a well-known name. The Goth family in general was well-known; most people knew the last name, because it had weight around here. Simadonia was full of mention of so and so Goth that did such and such magnificent thing. Mortimer was an eccentric but well-liked author, Bella was a former model and fashion icon, and Cassandra?

She was just trying to pass biology.

Tired and frustrated, Cassandra trudged in the front door and set her book-bag down by the dining room table. Strangely, though, there was a wrapped box on the table. Cassandra sat down in a chair. Not a minute or two later, Bella sashayed into the room and settled down. “Oh, look at this!” she said, tucking one leg under the other. Bella was so lady-like and refined. Cassandra was lucky if she could prevent herself from slurping her soup. “I wonder what this is!”

Cassandra couldn’t help but roll her eyes, though in an amused and light-hearted manner, as her mother reached across the table to the box and pulled the tag off. She used to do that for Winterfest when Cassandra was younger. It was delightful then. Now, it was kind of endearingly annoying. Was that a way to say it?

“For one Cassandra Goth,” Bella read, quirking one eyebrow up like it was a gift from some secret admirer that definitely didn’t exist, and setting the tag down on the table. “You should open it and see what it is!”

Cassandra snorted slightly, but she sat up and pulled the box towards her. It was wrapped in that neat way that let her just take the lid off the box instead of tearing into wrapping paper. (It was such a waste of paper.) She wiggled the lid off, and moved the tissue paper inside out of the way. Nestled in the paper, a nice lilac colour, was a book. It looked to be a small, leather-bound book, and once Cassandra took the book out of the box, she saw the shimmery multicoloured owl embedded on the cover. Tucked into the tissue paper beside the book was a brand new fountain pen and a set of pen nibs.

“What’s this?” she asked, admiring the book’s binding, running her fingers over the owl.

“It’s a journal,” Bella answered, her tone now lacking the faux surprise she’d had for a bit. “The teenage years are some of the hardest of your life, Cassandra. You’ll appreciate a private place to write down your thoughts. Sometimes just writing it down helps you analyse it a little, and it’s good to get frustrations out in manageable ways. You know I’m always here to listen, but if you need to listen to _yourself_ , keeping a journal is absolutely good for that.” Bella took a sip of whatever was in the mug that was in front of her. Knowing her, Cassandra was guessing it was chamomile tea.

“I guess that sounds fun,” Cassandra answered. “I just don’t know what to write.” That was a tough choice.

“Whatever pops into that pretty head of yours,” Bella answered. “Just tell your future self all the stories of what happens day to day. It’s a good place to start, and once you get into a rhythm, the hang of it so to speak, it’ll come naturally. And someday, you’ll be glad you’ve got the reference material. You might have kids of your own, and it’s never a good idea to forget what it was to be a child. It’s a very unique experience.”

Cassandra released a breath, softly, opening the book and flipping through the blank pages. Some had beautiful designs in the corners; others lacked any embellishment at all. The lines were soft and a slightly darkened gold, showing just enough to be visible against the creamy beige pages. The paper was soft to the touch, no trace of grainy texture, and smelled just slightly of musk and maybe vanilla alongside that tell-tale new paper smell.

Cassandra _loved_ that smell.

“I can try,” Cassandra decided. “I can try to remember to write in it.”

“Yes you can,” Bella replied. “So, how did school go?”

Cassandra loosed another snort, setting the book and pen carefully into her book bag. Bella reached over and folded the box and tissue paper up, storing it in one of the drawers to be used again probably for Winterfest. “It went,” Cassandra replied.

“That’s it?” Bella asked.

“I’ve still not made any friends, if that’s what you’re asking,” Cassandra said.

Bella looked a little upset at that, but she smiled. “That’s okay,” she said. “There’s always tomorrow.” Bella took her cup of presumably-chamomile-tea off the table, holding it in both hands. “Welcome home, by the way,” she said. “Remember to do your homework. Oh, your father’s going to be late today,” Bella mentioned, as she headed into the hallway. “He’s got a meeting with the editors.”

Yes, of course he did. Cassandra shook her head, but then she reached into her book bag, pulling the owl journal out to admire it. She should do her homework first, but maybe she’d start writing in this book today.

* * *

Before they had a butler in the house, Bella had tried to cook one time. She only got that one time, and then Mortimer had hired a butler because Bella had set herself on fire. Cassandra was young at the time, too young to use a stove. Cassandra still wondered what had happened to that butler, but he’d been kind enough to teach her some things about using stoves. Since Bella still couldn’t cook very well, and Cassandra wasn’t interested in another house fire any time soon, she picked up the task of making meals.

If she remembered right, we set this in here like that, and then sprinkled on a dash of that… she remembered, just barely. Cassandra shuffled around the kitchen, putting together everything she’d need to make eggs and toast. Breakfast was the most important meal of the day, because ideally it gave you the energy you’d need to make it through. It was important that Alexander got a good start to the day, and hopefully their parents also did. Cassandra wasn’t terribly concerned about herself, mind. She was fine skipping breakfast if she needed to.

Alexander had a bad habit of not going to sleep, and instead trying to nap his way through getting enough sleep, though, and Cassandra didn’t think he needed another bad habit.

Somewhere amid flipping the eggs, she heard tinkling to one side of her. A quick glance over there told her Alexander had come in with a stack of dishes. She smiled a little. “Good morning, Alex,” she greeted.

“Morning Cassie,” he replied, setting the dishes in the sink and turning the water on.

“You didn’t have to do that,” she said. “I’d have gotten it.”

Alexander giggled. “I know that silly,” he replied. “But you’re busy making breakfast. It’s fair, right? If you make breakfast and I do the dishes?”

Cassandra smiled. “I suppose so, kiddo.”

“I haven’t been kiddo in a long time, Cass,” Alexander grumbled, setting the freshly-washed dishes in the strainer by the sink.

Cassandra smiled again. “You’ll always be kiddo to me,” she said. “How’s school going?”

“Alright,” Alexander answered. He went around her with a clean stack of dishes to set the table. He was always doing thoughtful things like that. That was why he and Cassandra never got into a notable fight, even though siblings were supposed to fight a lot. That was just never true for them, and Cassandra was glad for it. She didn’t want to always be getting into a fight with him anyway. “I’m going to the park after school today,” Alexander said. “Some of the kids from school want to hang out.”

“Well, that sounds fun,” Cassandra answered, reaching over and putting the slices of bread into the toaster. She pushed the lever down. Alexander was even better at going to school than she was. He did his homework in no time, and seemed to be making friends well enough. Cassandra still didn’t have any friends, not really. Most of the people she went to school with were too immature for her liking, though most of them seemed to like her well enough.

Cassandra always did wonder if they really liked her, or if they were just fond of her family’s name, because that seemed to be most everyone’s motivations. She’d learned a long time ago to get used to that. That was just how it was going to be.

Alexander peered at his sister. She was being strange about it, but he thought he remembered someone saying she didn’t have many friends at school. Alexander had a couple of them, kids he liked to spend time with because they weren’t annoying mostly. But Cassandra never came home with anyone else, never talked about her friends or their plans. Didn’t she have some? He thought for a moment, going back to setting the table. He was almost done.

“Yeah,” he said. “But kind of scary. I don’t know a lot of kids, and it’s sometimes hard to make friends. How do you do it?” Maybe if she thought she was giving _him_ advice, she’d come up with something. Cassandra didn’t like to make waves. He thought things were probably kind of hard at home when she was younger, because she was one of the most selfless people he knew. She rarely ever expressed discontent of any kind, and very rarely thought of herself. He liked that about her. She never seemed to have weird motivations, and she genuinely cared about other people.

Cassandra looked surprised. She thought he was doing okay making friends. He sure had a lot of them, but it was admittedly touching that he’d thought to ask her. She wasn’t the best at making friends, though. As she scooted the eggs out of the pan and onto a plate, the toaster popped. She reached over and took the hot toast out of the toaster, spreading butter on one side and setting the toast onto the plate.

“Well, maybe try seeing if you and the other kids have anything in common,” Cassandra suggested. “Mutual hobbies are good things to break the ice with.” It certainly couldn’t hurt any. “And some kids are really shy,” she went on. “Maybe you could ask some of the other kids if they’d like to play with you first.”

“Yeah, some people _are_ really shy,” Alexander agreed. Cassandra counted as really shy, he thought. She liked to keep to herself, rather than put herself out there. He didn’t know why. She was a great person! Didn’t she know that? It was so strange to him that he didn’t seem to know that. Maybe somebody had told her she wasn’t! That was rude! Alexander would find that person and rip up their homework for sure! Not that she’d ever said anything about someone saying things like that. Maybe it wasn’t a person saying it. It wasn’t like he knew, and he probably couldn’t ask. He didn’t expect she’d tell him the truth.

“Maybe you could try it too,” Alexander suggested.

Cassandra was surprised. She’d tried not to let any of that show, but it was kind of him to care. He must’ve noticed her struggling with making friends. It wasn’t like Cassandra would admit that it bothered her, nor was she interested in asking her little brother for advice on how to make friends. Bella didn’t seem to know, just did it naturally, and Mortimer also didn’t seem to know. He didn’t really have any either. It seemed Alexander had noticed her struggles and decided to trick her into giving _herself_ advice.

He was a smart kid, she had to give him that. _Way_ smarter than she was, for sure.

“Yeah, I suppose I can,” Cassandra agreed. “Thanks kiddo.”

“Seriously, Cass!” Alexander huffed.

Cassandra giggled, handing him a plate of eggs and toast. Alexander marched off to the dining room, and Cassandra followed not far behind. Where would people she got along with hang out, anyway? She supposed it was time to find out.

* * *

While Alexander’s advice had been relatively sound (well, it was _her_ advice, technically), it didn’t seem to be working out in her favour just yet. If the other students didn’t find her intimidating because of her name, they thought she was intimidating because of how quiet she was. It was either that or they found her annoying, or had some weird idea that she was a snob (that, ladies and gentlemen, would be Malcolm Landgraab, not Cassandra Goth). It was what it was. She supposed there just wasn’t anything for that. People tended to fear, or dislike, what they didn’t understand, and it was notably difficult to understand the eccentric group that the Goth family was. Cassandra was under no illusions whatsoever about it. Her family was strange; it was known.

Once she got home from school, she settled into a seat at the dining room table, pulling her homework for the day out. It was science homework, one of Cassandra’s favourite subjects. She enjoyed talk about the cosmos, but it seemed they didn’t really know much about the cosmos anymore. It was a shame, but it was also understandable. They had so many things to discover. Supposedly, though, someone had finally created a wormhole generator and managed to travel beyond the known star system. That was beyond exciting!

The door opened and closed, and then a loud thunk was heard. Cassandra leaned back in the chair, looking around the archway to see who had just come in. The groaning sound was feminine. Ah, that was her mother.

“Welcome home,” Cassandra greeted.

Bella grunted again. “Thank you,” she said, and shuffled around the corner. A slight tapping was heard as she took her heels off and tossed them into the hall closet, then she came into the dining room. “How was school today?”

Cassandra made a tisking sound. “I survived at least,” she answered. “We had a pop quiz today, and it wasn’t easy but I did pass it, and now that class is mad at me.”

“Well, that happens,” Bella answered, settling down into a seat. “People tend to be jealous of people with abilities they don’t have.”

“It’s not that impressive,” Cassandra said, sinking into her seat a little. “All I did was study.”

“Good study habits are harder to keep to than they sound like, Cassie,” Bella assured. “I’d say ask your father, but he’s eccentric enough, he figured out an unconventional way of managing it.”

“I’m almost afraid to ask,” Cassandra answered.

“You probably shouldn’t,” Bella said. She tossed her handbag into the chair beside her, and Cassandra finally thought to herself, why not.

“How was your day?” she asked.

Bella scrunched her nose. “Someone set something on fire that isn’t supposed to be burned,” she said, “but all in all, it was an okay day.”

“You seem like you’re in a bad mood,” Cassandra said, just stating her observations. Bella was relatively easy to read. If she was in a bad mood, if you knew what to look for, it wasn’t difficult to pin-point it. Cassandra always appreciated that her mother sort of wore her heart on her sleeve. It made figuring out what to say and such ultimately much easier, and it thus made it easier to get along with her mother. Not to say Bella was hard to get along with, no. It just took some of the guess work out of it all, and Cassandra couldn’t say she had a particular fondness for flailing gracelessly.

Bella snorted derisively. “That one’s for your father to worry about,” Bella answered.

Ah. Bella was a hopeless romantic type, and enjoyed the romancing and the wooing. Usually, Mortimer had no trouble keeping up with it, but he’d been particularly busy dealing with his book editors regarding his latest novel. If Cassandra remembered rightly, he had a very solid idea of what he wanted to do with the book, but his editors didn’t like his ideas and shot them down, telling him that he needed to change his book’s direction. It had something to do with its marketability. His publisher didn’t think it would be easy to sell it. Mortimer was adamant of otherwise, but the end result was they’ve been in ‘talks’ for weeks; and by talks, everyone knew they meant arguments.

“I see,” Cassandra replied. Yeah, maybe she should just stay out of that one. She pondered something else to talk about. “Alexander gave me some decent advice this morning,” she said.

“Did he?” Bella asked, reaching around behind herself to put a book back onto the shelf.

“I’ve been having trouble making friends,” Cassandra explained. “Alexander seems to be doing okay with it, and I guess he wanted to share the success. So he tricked me into inadvertently giving myself advice.” Cassandra had to laugh at it. He was a smart kid, and she thought he was going to live up to the Goth name effortlessly. Cassandra would have to work at it.

“Well, did you follow it?” Bella asked.

“I’m trying to, yes,” Cassandra replied. “I’m not entirely sure where to find people I might get along with.”

“You’re a very personable individual, Cassandra,” Bella said. “You could get along with the Grim Reaper I’d think.”

Cassandra laughed. “I’m not sure how to take that, mom,” she said.

“It’s a proverb from the old world,” Bella answered. “It means that you don’t make a lot of fight over pointless things. There are those that would get along with the Reaper, and those that would put up the futile effort of fighting with him. You’re the former.”

For a moment, Cassandra wasn’t sure if that was right, but maybe it was. She just always figured there wasn’t any sense in making a big fuss about some things. All that energy could be channelled into something more useful very easily.

Someday, she was sure, she’d find out what she’d do. In the interim, maybe her mother was right, and she could try and make friends just about anywhere.


	2. Chapter 2

One thing Cassandra knew for sure was that she loved to play the violin. And she knew she wanted to write songs on it someday, but she didn’t know if that was what she wanted to do for a living. At the very least, she could use some practice around others, just to gauge how receptive they were to her songs. To that end, she’d picked up her violin, and decided to take Alexander to Magnolia Blossom park.

It was a nice enough day; the weather wasn’t terrible, and the temperature was just about right. Cassandra watched Alexander scurry off to the jungle gyms and such. She smiled to herself, and headed towards the chess tables, and then parked herself off to the side and started playing a concerto.

She would’ve kept playing all day if she had the choice, but they’d come late to begin with, and both had school in the morning. After some time, she realised Alexander was probably getting hungry, so Cassandra stopped playing and used the park’s public grills to make something for them to eat before they left. Somewhere amid her prodding the fruits she had lying on the grill, she heard a familiar voice speaking to her.

“You’re Cassandra Goth, right?” the voice asked.

Cassandra turned to face the speaker, finding none other than Malcolm Landgraab talking to her. Cassandra almost groaned audibly, but she managed to hold it in. Much like the Goth family, the Landgraabs were a well-known name. They were rivals with the Alto family, and the difference between the Landgraabs and Altos, and the Goths, was that the Landgraabs and Altos had things named after them all the time. The Goth family were the founding members of a lot of townships and locales the same as the Landgraabs and Altos. The Goths just didn’t put their name on it all the time, whatever ‘it’ was this time.

Cassandra nodded. “I am.” There was no sense in being rude. Malcolm was a relatively thin boy, with green eyes and messy blond hair. He was cute, really. It was just his attitude that got on Cassandra’s nerves, but as she wasn’t one to make waves, she’d never told him as much. There was no point.

“Did you get cuter recently, or did I just miss it the last time we saw each other?” he asked.

What a way to ask that question. Cassandra shrugged, flipping the plantains. “I don’t know,” she answered honestly. “We were pretty young the last time we saw one another.” So to be fair about it, maybe nobody was truly cute to either of them the last time they spoke. Cassandra didn’t really make a habit of hanging around Landgraabs. Or _anyone_ , truth be told, but that was a different story for another day.

“Huh, I guess that’s true,” Malcolm admitted. “Do you have a boyfriend?”

“Not really,” Cassandra answered.

“Not _really_?” he asked. “That’s a yes or a no question, though.”

And that was why Cassandra really didn’t care much for him. He had a strange air of superiority that inevitably began to get on her nerves, and considering how patient with everyone _else_ Cassandra could be, it was almost a miracle unto itself. It was, though, consistent. Malcolm was at least always consistently annoying, she supposed she also should give him that much.

“I’m not interested in dating,” she said, as if that answered all of that, and in her mind, there was no reason it shouldn’t. She had no interest in boys. Especially not _Malcolm Landgraab_.

“You know your family and my family are really important,” he said, his tone still snooty.

“Yes?” Cassandra replied, wondering what he was getting at.

“It’d make sense if our parents would want us to get married later,” he said, looking pleased with himself. “I mean, I can’t marry just _anybody_.”

Cassandra had to wonder why not. Maybe falling for someone that wasn’t considered particularly wealthy or important would be good for Malcolm’s big ego. Cassandra knew better than to say that, or hint that she was thinking it. Instead, she shrugged one shoulder. “Maybe.”

“That’s such a non-committal answer,” Malcolm said. He sounded frustrated, but Cassandra never gave real answers to subjects like that one. “At least let me take you out a few times. We can get a bite to eat and go see a movie or something. You like movies, right?”

That was – actually, her dream date was probably not out there around other people. Cassandra was never very fond of people, and Malcolm seemed the type that’d show off any time he could, and Cassandra just wasn’t that flashy. Before she had to answer, at least, Alexander ran over and grabbed her leg.

“Cassie is dinner done yet?” he whinged.

She gave Malcolm a look that implied she was sorry about being interrupted by her brother, but she was secretly grateful. “Almost, kiddo,” she said.

“Good, cause I’m hungry!” Alexander declared, and then he rocketed off talking about his friends and the new girl he’d just met at the monkey bars, and so on. Malcolm eventually rolled his eyes and walked away. They’d talk again at school, she was sure, and while she wasn’t looking forward to it, maybe putting it off was just delaying the inevitable.

She did wonder if he was right. If their parents would want them to get married later. Her parents had never mentioned anything about it. Maybe he was wrong, then. It wasn’t so hard to believe. Malcolm got some strange ideas into his head, for sure, and that wasn’t really her problem.

“Thanks, kiddo,” she said, quietly, just for Alexander.

The boy giggled. “That was purposeful,” he said, also whispering. “You looked like you were going to slug him if he kept talking.”

“Did I really?”

“Oh yeah,” Alex said, nodding. “You get a mean-looking face when you’re annoyed, I should know!” But, to be fair, Alexander hadn’t seen it in a while. It took him a moment or two to remember what that expression meant, and then a few more moments to figure out what to do about it.

“I’ll have to take your word for it,” Cassandra said. “In the meantime, how about grilled fruit?” she asked, holding a plate of grilled plaintains and strawberries out to him.

“Yay!” the boy declared, taking the plate and sitting down at the picnic table.

He was sweet. Cassandra hoped he never changed.

* * *

“Alright, upstairs to brush your teeth and go to bed,” Cassandra said, holding the door open for Alexander.

“I know!” he said, heading for the staircase.

“And actually go to sleep!” Cassandra said. “No naps!” His habit of taking naps instead of going to sleep was starting to do a number on his cognitive functions. Alexander didn’t answer directly, just groaned slightly as he marched up the stairs. Cassandra watched him go, and then headed into the dining room. Bella sat in one of the chairs, drinking a cup of tea and looking amused.

“Oh, hi mom,” Cassandra greeted, settling down into a seat, too.

“Welcome home,” Bella said. “You sound like Alexander’s mother.”

Cassandra laughed. “I hope not,” she said. “I can barely handle myself, having to handle a kid too sounds scary.”

Bella smiled knowingly. She’d never spoken about it, but Cassandra was born when she was quite young herself. She’d had Mortimer, so it wasn’t that terrible, but she wondered sometimes what life might’ve been like if she’d waited to marry him. She may not have gotten two beautiful, amazing children out of it, though, and Mortimer was such a doting husband, when he wasn’t having trouble with the voices in his head.

In some sense, Bella understood. Mortimer said she was his muse, that as long as Bella was around, he could be as imaginative as his readers expected him to be. Sometimes he talked to her about his crazy ideas and the adventures that went on in his head, and she enjoyed listening to him talk so animatedly about something. It’d just be nice to have his full attention more frequently than once in a grand while. His editors wanted his attention all the time, but she supposed that was the price they paid for success. Her bosses weren’t much different.

“You might warm up to the idea eventually,” Bella said. “I don’t regret having you and your brother.”

Cassandra smiled. “I’m glad,” she said.

“So, how was the park?”

“Oh, I made over §50 while I was playing,” Cassandra said. “I think everyone liked my songs well enough. Maybe becoming a songwriter won’t be a bad idea.”

“I told you that you were a talented player, Cassandra,” Bella said, smiling brightly. “I’m proud of you, you’ve really done well teaching yourself to play.” Mortimer and Bella could certainly have afforded lessons for the girl, but she’d insisted on figuring it out for herself. Here she was now, having learned to play so well she was considering writing songs. “Would you want to do that as a career?” Bella asked.

“Not really,” Cassandra said, shrugging a shoulder. “Just something fun on the side.”

“If your songs do really well, you could end up rather famous,” Bella said. “I know you’re not a big fan of being in the spotlight.” Cassandra much preferred to duck under the proverbial radar, and while Bella could understand why, she wished Cassandra would put herself out there a little more. The experiences you’d gain for doing so were worth the slight discomfort, or at least Bella thought so. Cassandra wasn’t that type of person, though, and Bella knew it, so she didn’t say anything.

“I know,” Cassandra replied. “I don’t think that’ll happen though. My songs are acceptably good, but I don’t think they’re _that_ good.”

“I don’t know, they might be,” Bella said. “How big of a crowd did you have today?”

“Maybe nine or ten,” Cassandra said.

“Wow, that’s impressive for the first time you’ve played there,” Bella said. “And you made a lot of money, so they seem to think your songs are good.”

“Success on the streets doesn’t always equate to success in a studio with the world at large,” Cassandra said. “Besides, maybe I was just standing under the only tree shade they could get to easily.”

“I doubt that, Cassandra,” Bella said, her eyebrow raising in disbelief. “There are a lot of trees at Magnolia Blossom.” Bella had seen most of them.

Cassandra shook her head, sighing a bit. “Malcolm Landgraab came by and talked to me a lot,” she said, deciding to change the subject.

“Did he?” Bella asked. She was never fond of the Landgraabs. Well, Geoffrey wasn’t too bad of a person, and she shouldn’t judge Nancy so much, but she was one of the snootiest people Bella had ever had the misfortune of interacting with. It was even more unfortunate that the Landgraabs seemed to have so much interest in the Goths and what they were up to.

“Yeah,” Cassandra said. “He stopped by to listen to my playing, and then wanted to talk after.”

“The Landgraabs are important to Oasis Springs,” Bella said. “Probably they’re the closest thing to being a royal family for the place anymore, just like how we’re important to Willow Creek. It might not be a bad thing to make friends with him, at the very least. You certainly don’t need the Landgraabs having a grudge against you.” The Landgraabs and the Goths going toe to toe could be rather a troublesome event. It’d already almost happened because Nancy was a judgy twit, and didn’t seem to think much of Bella because she was so much younger than Mortimer.

She could shove it, though. Bella and Mortimer knew the truth, and she’d do well to keep her nose out of their family’s affairs, before Bella got a mind to turn it green.

Cassandra loosed a sigh. Her mother was probably right. “I guess so,” she admitted. “Why does he have to be so… so _ugh_ though?”

Bella loosed a laugh. “You’d have to ask his parents that, I think,” she said.

“He said it’s likely his parents will want him to marry me later,” Cassandra mentioned. It was toned like it was off-handed, but Bella knew her daughter well enough not to believe that.

“Don’t worry,” Bella said. “We have no intentions of making you marry anyone you don’t want to marry.”

Some of the tension Cassandra hadn’t been aware was there faded. “I’m glad.”

“You should marry for love, Cassandra, not for money or beauty or anything like that. Those things, they don’t last forever, and when the money is gone and the beauty has faded, there’s gotta be something else there.”

Cassandra smiled a bit. “Like with you and dad?” she asked.

“Yes,” Bella replied. “Just like with me and your father. … and remember to make time for your family,” Bella added, her expression turning sour. “You never know when it’ll be too late to make time, and you don’t want your family to feel like they’re second rate.”

Cassandra made a face. It sounded like she should kick her father into spending some time with her mother. “I’ll remember, mom,” she said. And she would certainly try to.

* * *

It was still dark outside, but Cassandra had a headache. She sat up in bed, and then decided to go downstairs to get a glass of water. When she got headaches like this, she either needed to eat something, or she needed to get something to drink. Getting something to drink was a lot easier in the long run, so she decided to go with that.

As she made her way downstairs, though, she heard muttering and the sound of papers rustling. It sounded like her father was still down here, probably working on a book idea or two. She took a breath in, and shuffled into the dining room first. There were papers spread all across the dining room table, and she had to snort a little at the sight. It certainly had turned out she was right.

“Hey daddy,” she greeted.

“Oh, hi pumpkin,” Mortimer greeted. “Do you need the table?” he asked.

“No,” she answered, popping into the kitchen to grab a glass of water, and then settling against the counter. It was in full view of the dining room, so they could still talk. “Thank you though. How’s your work going?” He seemed frustrated about something. Cassandra wasn’t very good at writing, but she did understand how fickle the writing process could be. She kind of felt bad for him, and maybe she could help at least a little.

“Not very well,” he answered, frowning at the papers in front of him. “In this part, the main character discovers the girl she’d just met is an alien, and then in the next has to decide what to do with that information, but it seems like it’s too much too quickly. They just met, maybe I should wait for that particular reveal…”

Cassandra smiled a little, moving across the dining room to look at the chapters he meant, and read a little. “Yeah, that is a little bit confusing I think,” she said. “Unless the alien girl doesn’t want to hide her being an alien? Being disguised is useless anyway, isn’t it? They have to hide everything they are, and that’s gotta be insulting to at least one of them.”

Mortimer looked up at her like she’d just found the answer to life itself. “You’re a _genius_ , Cassandra,” he said. “That would work so well!”

“I’m glad,” she answered, sounding amused. Mortimer quickly scribbled out the idea into the margins of one of the papers in front of him. He then sat up long enough to restack the papers together. Since their house didn’t have any electronics in it (not even a radio), Mortimer wrote all of his books by hand, on paper. It did mean there were a few books he’d lost because he’d left the pages a little bit too close to the fireplace a time or two. Cassandra never mentioned it, and the rest of the Goths didn’t care to remember the minor fires Mortimer’s habit of leaving his books in random places tended to cause. It’s just a good thing nothing was ever damaged, but Cassandra knew he didn’t do it on purpose. So did Bella and Alexander. Though, Alexander _had_ developed a mild aversion to the fireplaces.

“Have you gone up to see mom?” she asked, settling down in a seat now that getting a papercut from twitching the wrong way wasn’t a concern anymore.

“Hmm?” Mortimer asked, looking up at Cassandra.

Cassandra decided not to say anything, simply giving him a _look_.

“Oh, your mother, right,” Mortimer said. “I’ve been down here since I got back from the meeting with the executives. Can you believe they want this book done by the end of the week? I have no idea if I can even find the time!”

Cassandra still said nothing, continuing to give him the look. After a few moments, Mortimer cleared his throat.

“She’s upset, isn’t she?” he asked, sheepish.

Cassandra mutely nodded.

Mortimer sighed. “Yes, I suppose she would be. Well, what do you say I find a nice rose for her?”

“Maybe tomorrow,” Cassandra replied. “But tonight, I think it might be a better idea to put the manuscript away, and go up to spend time with her.”

Mortimer sighed. He did not, however, argue, because Cassandra was right and he knew it. “When did you start becoming such a young woman, Cassie?” he asked. “You were supposed to be my little girl forever.”

“I’m still your little girl, daddy,” she said. “I’m just not so little now.” She’d grown. But that was what children did, they didn’t stay small forever. Sometimes, Cassandra was glad for that, but other times, she really wished she could stay small forever. The responsibility that came from becoming an adult sounded like a little too much for her, but on the other hand, living off her parents forever wasn’t any more appealing. There should be some kind of a balance of the two, but she knew she’d never truly get one.

Perhaps just asking them for advice when she was lost after she was on her own would be close enough. She didn’t think her parents would mind answering her strange questions and still helping guide her when she’d moved out. As it was, her mother was always offering her life advice. It stood to reason that she might still when Cassandra was on her own, if not more so.

“I know,” Mortimer answered. “Alright, I’m going up to bed then,” he said, setting his manuscript neatly in one of the drawers in the dining room. “You should be getting to sleep soon too, pumpkin,” he said, leaning over to give Cassandra a hug and a kiss on her hair.

“I will,” she said. “Just needed some water. Goodnight.” Mortimer murmured his goodnight and went upstairs. Cassandra slid down in her seat. Someday she’d have to move out. To start her own life, and be whoever it was she was destined to be. But who was that? And would she be glad to meet her, or would she wish things had turned out differently?


	3. Chapter 3

The sound of the brew bubbling in the cauldron was a familiar and comforting one. It may have been some time since Bella was in here brewing her famous potions, but she was still absolutely in her element down here. The basement was a newer addition to the house, one the kids didn’t know anything about. Bella and Mortimer both knew how to get into it, but preferred not to tell the kids about it. Neither Cassandra nor Alexander had any idea of their true magical origins, and Bella would much rather keep it that way.

Unfortunately, one didn’t always get what they wanted.

Like with this potion. Bella frowned to herself. The ingredients were correct, and picked fresh this morning from the small herb garden they had growing in the magic room. She felt a slight tickle of magic, and stilled, waiting for Mortimer to materialise. Mostly, the two of them transportalated in and out of the magic room. It was easier than explaining to the kids there was nothing down that random set of stairs in the hallway.

As Mortimer materialised, Bella tilted her head at him.

“Ah, there you are,” Mortimer said, shuffling over to stand beside Bella. He peeked at the cauldron, and then arched an eyebrow. “You’re missing mandrake,” he said.

Bella cursed under her breath, huffing in annoyance at herself and tossing a bit of mandrake into the pot. Almost immediately, it turned the vibrant pink colour she’d expected it to be. “Thank you,” she said. “I was having a hard time remembering what I was forgetting.”

Mortimer looked bemused, taking his wife’s hand. “You’re still better at this than I am, you know. You just get stressed and forget things from time to time.”

Bella almost pouted for a moment. “I know,” she said. “It’s just that I should be too young to forget things this way.”

“One’s never too young to forget things,” Mortimer said.

“I guess so. Have you worked out what to do with your book? The one with the alien girl?”

Mortimer nodded. “Oh, yes actually, Cassandra helped me figure it out.”

“That’s good then,” Bella replied. “Does this mean you’ll become less busy all the time?” She wasn’t holding her breath. His publisher and editors could get horrendously demanding at times, and she knew that better than most. They always had been, at least as long as she’d known him.

Mortimer sighed. “Unfortunately,” he said, “maybe yes, maybe no.”

“I see.” Bella tried not to sound disappointed.

“But,” he said, “I’ve got time now, you’re not working either, the kids are occupied…”

Bella giggled. “What are you getting at, Mortimer?”

“Would you like to go out on a date with me, fair maiden?” he asked, reaching up and cupping her cheek.

“I’d like that very much,” she answered. “Where are we going?” Bella wrapped her arms around his neck.

Mortimer smiled, cradling her against him. “I was thinking a nice dinner by a crackling fire, a long discussion under the stars, and maybe some good vintage nectar.”

“Oh, I know just the nectar,” Bella said.

“The 1800s vintage meliore,” Mortimer said.

“Absolutely!” Bella agreed. “Sometimes you seem to read my mind, Morty,” she said.

“I certainly try, my love,” he said. “We have been together for nearly twenty years now, you know.”

“Goodness, that’s a long time, isn’t it?” Bella asked. “Ahh, Cassandra’s eighteenth birthday is soon.”

“So it is. A week or so now, no?”

“Yes,” Bella replied. “I was hoping to plan her a birthday party, nothing fancy, just the family getting together, and perhaps a family friend or two.”

“That sounds more her speed,” Mortimer agreed. “Should we get her anything as a present? What kinds of things does a girl her age have an interest in?” Mortimer had honestly never asked. While he and Cassandra talked all the time, they didn’t tend to have conversations about anything besides his writing, and her schoolwork. If he remembered rightly, as well, she was having a tough time making friends. He remembered mention of that once or twice.

As they talked, Mortimer and Bella had begun to slow-dance around the magic room. It’d been a long time since they’d had time for just each other, without being interrupted by something or other. Mortimer was half tempted to tell his upper management to go shove it, because he wanted more time to spend with his family. They were important, the only thing he considered worth anything in this world. He could have all the riches in the world and consider himself poor without them.

“I’m not so sure, either,” Bella admitted. “I do know she’s started trying to write her own songs. Maybe something music-related would be appreciated. Not too extravagant, not something she won’t like.” That seemed to be the best bet to her.

Mortimer nodded. “I know someone that sells jewellery boxes that double as music boxes,” he said. “They play the same song every time they’re played, but perhaps she might appreciate one.”

“Oooh!” Bella exclaimed. “Mortimer, that’s perfect!”

“I’ll talk to that friend of mine,” he said. “Perhaps we should get one that’s purple?”

“Yes,” Bella agreed. “She seems to like purple and black.”

“You know what would look nice, purple and gold.”

“Weren’t those royal colours?” she asked.

“Yes,” Mortimer answered. “They were also formerly the colours of the Goth family, but in the middle ages, they changed it to red and black.”

That was odd. The Bachelor family wasn’t important enough to have family colours, or at least, not that Bella could remember. It was possible some branch or another of the family had colours, or at least a crest, but she couldn’t say offhand which that might’ve been. “Interesting change.”

“I think it had something to do with some odd king or another,” Mortimer replied. “I’d have to -” he stopped, as a metallic creaking sound was heard. Bella’s eyes widened as the creaking suddenly _clanked_ like something metallic had burst. Almost immediately after, Alexander shouted from upstairs, “AHHH! It’s leaking everywhere!”

Bella sighed. Mortimer looked terribly unsurprised, but very put-upon. Randomly, their appliances and plumbing had been breaking almost every day. He wondered… but he never said anything. “Apparently my dear,” he said, kissing Bella’s cheek as he separated from her, “the date will have to wait a bit, as it seems I need to fix a bathtub or something.”

Bella didn’t say anything as he vanished again. She turned back to the cauldron, still softly bubbling the pinkish tone it was meant to be. She wondered too. Wondered if maybe some past events might yet be coming back to haunt them.

* * *

It was becoming pretty routine for Cassandra to wake up and make breakfast before everyone else. Oddly, she was enjoying it. That stretch of time just before the sun came up was peaceful in strange ways, and she liked listening to the birds start singing their good morning songs. Alexander was usually up right after her, and he spent time doing the dishes from the night before, and often, setting the table. Then came Mortimer, and finally Bella, only because she worked late on occasion.

Alexander gave his usual greeting as he came down the stairs and started on the dishes. Cassandra happily greeted him back, and focused on not messing up breakfast. Today it was fruit parfait.

“How do you know all these recipes, Cass?” Alexander asked.

Cassandra shrugged one shoulder. “I find them in different places,” she answered. “This one I found on the internet, but some of the other ones I’ve made I found in cookbooks at the library.”

“They have cookbooks at the library?” Alexander asked. “Why would they have those?”

“Some Sims can’t afford to buy their own,” Cassandra answered, “or to get a computer. The library’s a good resource when you don’t have a computer or even a bookshelf.”

Alexander thought about that for a moment. “There are Sims that can’t afford a bookshelf?”

“There sure are,” Cassandra replied. “We’re really fortunate, but there are a lot of Sims that aren’t. That’s just how the world is.”

“Can’t we do something?” Alexander asked.

“There are programmes that help them,” Cassandra said. “And except for in very exceptional circumstances, they eventually start to manage okay on their own.”

“That’s good then,” he said. The two went quiet for a bit, and then Alexander asked, “how’s making friends going?”

Cassandra laughed a little. It’d figure he’d remember that. Cassandra hadn’t honestly tried yet, but she’d been meaning to. It was very easy to keep doing things you were used to doing. Her daily school routine hadn’t needed to change in… well, perhaps ever, and it leaned toward not having a lot of friends. It might be nice to have study partners that weren’t grating to her nerves, or her kid brother for that matter, but she did have to wonder why it mattered. Soon enough, she wouldn’t be in high school anymore, and it was somewhat rare that high school friends remained lifelong ones.

It’d be nice to have someone besides her family members to talk to, though. Maybe that was motivation enough to at least _try_ making friends of her own. She still didn’t know where to try, but maybe the library was a good start. She spent a good deal of time there when she didn’t feel like going home after school.

“I haven’t been trying yet,” she admitted. There was no sense in lying to him, because he’d figure out the truth eventually anyway, it wasn’t too difficult, and it wasn’t very good for their trust for her to lie. “I keep forgetting. It’s easy to forget things like that when it’s habit not to think about it, and I guess habits are hard to change.”

“Yeah, they sure are,” Alexander agreed. “It’s okay, as long as you try someday. It’s just good to make friends and stuff, people you can talk to that aren’t in the family. There’ll be stuff you don’t want to talk about with us that you might be okay talking about with friends, I think. Right?”

Cassandra nodded. “Usually, yeah.”

“It’s kind of scary, isn’t it?” Alexander asks. “Changing and doing things differently. I think sometimes you’ve gotta take chances, cause if you’re too afraid to do anything, you never get anywhere.”

Now where had he heard something smart like that? Cassandra looked a little bemused. Her kid brother was pretty intelligent for his age. She wondered if he was just like that, or if it was a side-effect of being a Goth. The Goths sure turned out eccentric Sims. She almost felt sorry for any kids she or Alexander had in the future. It was tough being a Goth, and no doubt it’d be even tougher by the time their kids would be born.

Not that Cassandra had any intention of having children, but things happened, often without one’s own input. Life had plans and sometimes you really were just along for the ride.

“I suppose not,” Cassandra replied. “You’re right. It’s a lot easier to say things like that than to change them, though.”

Alexander snorted softly, setting the dishes he’d just washed into the strainer. “Yeah,” he agreed. “I know that’s for sure. But if anyone can do it, I’ll bet it’s you!”

“Thanks kiddo,” Cassandra said, glancing at him. “You’re awfully encouraging sometimes, you know that?”

“I try to be,” Alexander answered. “Some Sims could use to be a bit nicer, and I always figured there was no sense in lecturing other Sims about it if I didn’t do it myself.”

“That’s pretty sound,” Cassandra said, nodding. “Change is difficult, but it becomes a bit easier when you’re willing to change first.”

Alexander nodded. “But nothing’s ever really the same, is it? Stuff’s always changing. You’d think we’d all have an easier time of dealing with it, since it happens all the time.”

“You’d think,” Cassandra answered. “I’m not sure why no one likes things changing, but it probably has something to do with wanting to hang onto things, and nothing truly lasting forever. Even I don’t care for change sometimes. It depends on what it is.”

Alexander looked thoughtful for a moment. “I guess I don’t really like it sometimes either,” he said.

“Most don’t, kiddo,” Cassandra said. “It’s normal. Probably the most normal thing we Goths have ever done huh?”

Alexander laughed at that. The Goths were well-known for their eccentric behaviours and strange outlooks on things. It just kind of ran in the family, but you got used to it after a while. Or maybe it was just that he had.

“Come on,” Cassandra said, handing Alexander a plate. “Breakfast is done.”

* * *

This particular problem was more difficult than Cassandra had been ready for. She peered at it, trying not to give herself too much of a headache. They did cover this material in class, so by all rights, she should remember how to do it. Had she taken notes for this unit? That thought in mind, she rifled through her notebook, trying to find any notes on this part of the unit she might’ve scribbled down. Mostly, she found scribbled sketches of bats and rainbows.

That wasn’t even your run-of-the-mill type of margin doodle.

The door opened and closed. Cassandra could hear the clacking of her mother’s heels on the floor in the entryway. “Welcome home,” she greeted. She was in the living room this time, mostly because it’d gotten notably chilly and she’d thought sitting in front of the fireplace might be nice. She was right.

“Hello, Cassandra,” her mother’s voice greeted back. A moment later, and Bella turned around the corner and wandered into the living room, settling into a chair. “How was school?”

“It was okay,” Cassandra answered. “No pop quizzes this time, thankfully.” She was still trying to live down the last time there was one. Bella was right, though. It wasn’t _her_ fault she was the only one that studied. Whatever made people feel better, she supposed.

“The kids will forget about it soon enough,” Bella said, setting her purse down on the floor beside her chair. “That’s the issue with being sixteen, it feels like you’ll never get past something and then it fades in a week or two, and you wonder why you were ever upset at all.”

Cassandra laughed quietly. “Yeah, I’ve noticed that.” It had a habit of smacking even _her_ upside the head, and she liked to pretend she was a bit better than that. “Did dad go up last night and talk to you?” Maybe Bella was already asleep by then.

“Yes,” Bella answered. “Why?”

“I told him to, is all.” She wanted to make sure it’d done some good, even if it was only a little good.

“Oh?” Bella looked amused. “You’d think you’d be less concerned about your parents’ love lives. Isn’t that gross?” Most teenagers had a noted aversion to having anything to do with their parents’ love lives, after all, and gods forbid having anything to do with their sex lives. Not that Bella intended to be sharing anything related to _that_ anytime soon.

“I’d rather not live through a divorce, thanks,” Cassandra replied, her tone drawling. She’d much rather her parents stayed together.

“Oh honey,” Bella said, “I love your father very much, even if he is a pain in the behind sometimes. There won’t be a divorce.”

Cassandra smiled. “And we can keep it that way!” she said. Yes, that sounded like a very good idea to her.

“Say, did you ever figure out where to go to make friends?” Certainly the girl had been thinking about it, and Bella was curious if she’d thought anything up. Given some time, Bella likely would have some suggestions for her, but she was hoping Cassandra had a few on her own.

“I was thinking the library,” Cassandra replied.

“That sounds like a good place to start,” Bella said. “You’re always in the library, aren’t you?” Alexander was, too. They both liked to read, and Bella was glad for that. Books were to the brain what food was to the body, after all.

“Not always,” Cassandra grumbled, looking a little upset.

Ah. Bella shook her head. “It’s a good thing, Cassandra.” She smiled, remembering her school years. It wasn’t that long ago she was in high school. “Ah, the smell of old paper when you walk in the door.” If she tried, she could almost smell it. “There’s nothing quite like it, is there?”

“No, there’s not,” Cassandra agreed. “It’s a nice scent. I got used to it fairly quickly.”

“So did I,” Bella said. “Your father smells just slightly of fresh parchment. I used to hate the scent, but then I started to like it for some reason or another, and now I’m glad for it. I figure part of why I started to like it had a lot to do with him anyway. I always figured he’d become a writer. What I wasn’t expecting is how eccentric of a writer he became, but he’s got a strong cult following.” That cult following had been with him since before Cassandra was born.

Cassandra hummed under her breath. “I’d noticed that,” she said. “Doesn’t he want a larger following?” It seemed like a more favourable outcome to have more fans than her father had.

“Not necessarily, it depends,” Bella answered. “Success isn’t _exactly_ cut and dry, though many like to believe it is. It’s not either you win or you lose. Failure is an event along the road to success, and what success looks like is variant. Sure, he could theoretically use a larger following, but in cases like this one, it’s better to have a small following that’ll definitely still be there tomorrow. I would imagine that most creative arts are like that, where it’s better to have a few that love your work, than a bunch that may decide they don’t anymore later.”

Cassandra mulled that over, and then nodded slightly. “That seems pretty sound.” And it did, it was simply that Cassandra had never had occasion to think about it too deeply. Her mother was just full of surprising life advice. She wondered if it was a mother thing, or a Bella Goth thing. She hadn’t spoken to too many other mothers, and honestly wasn’t sure. “So you’ll want to build a solid fan-base first?”

“It’s the same with building a house, no?” Bella asked. “You wouldn’t go straight to building the attic.”

“Right,” Cassandra answered. And then she giggled slightly. “You know mom, you’re a little eccentric too.” At least, Cassandra thought so. She was sure some other people also thought so, but she couldn’t think of who off-hand.

Bella smirked in amusement, standing up. She would probably take a shower, she usually did not long after work. “Well, you aren’t married to Mortimer Goth for almost twenty years and not pick up a little eccentricity.”


	4. Chapter 4

If he had to guess, Bella was probably in the basement. Mortimer set his briefcase aside in the hall closet, and then, after checking to make sure none of the kids were watching (or the neighbours), he activated transportalate and appeared in the basement. Like he suspected, Bella was already down there, fussing with one of the many bookshelves that lined the stone walls.

The magic room was entirely built of stone, with seating areas, a fireplace, and many bookshelves and curio cabinets. In the centre was a cauldron, and magical lights and drying herbs lined the walls. It was one of Mortimer’s favourite places, if only because it was so peaceful, a place just for themselves, and no one else.

As Bella scoured the bookshelves, Mortimer came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, kissing her cheek.

“You almost got a ring in your jaw,” Bella said, sounding amused.

“Ah, but almost doesn’t count,” Mortimer replied. “What are you looking for?” He remembered where the vast majority of things in their special room were, perhaps he could be of assistance if nothing else.

“One of my potions books,” Bella replied, leaning her head to the side to manage to kiss his cheek. “The one written by great grandmother Cecilia.” It’d been a long time since anyone had spoken much about the extended family. Bella of course was related to the Bachelor family, while Mortimer had the Goth and Crumplebottom lineages behind him. Their families were all very powerful, or at least most of them had been. Somewhere in the back, Bella was sure she had Crowley blood, but she couldn’t prove it. It was just a hunch.

“If I remember dear,” Mortimer said, “you last left it in the wardrobe upstairs.”

Bella frowned, her eyebrows drawing together. “Why would I put it in the – oooh… right…”

Mortimer laughed, gently turning Bella around and taking her hands in his. Very gently, he kissed her knuckles, and then his gaze hardened slightly.

“Circe’s up to something,” he said.

Bella immediately stiffened, her own gaze hardening slightly. Yes, maybe she was. Certainly enough things had been going wrong around the house, it was hard to imagine she was being completely quiet. Cornelia hadn’t decided to kill her, at the time, and thinking back on it, Bella couldn’t imagine why not. Circe had done quite a number of things, including destroying entire bloodlines because she’d decided they weren’t good enough for her. All in all, it was treason of the highest order to even attack members of some of those family lines, let alone destroy the entire lineage.

“I’m sure,” Bella replied. “Whatever it is, I don’t know what her end goal could be, if that’s what you’re wondering.” Bella had been her best friend, once. That time was over.

Mortimer’s gaze softened, and his hands squeezed hers slightly. “I just doubt the Goth family stripping her of her position as Sage of Untamed Magic was pleasing,” he said. “She always was a crafty one, if I recall. We should be prepared for anything.”

Bella sighed, her head turning down toward their joined hands. He was right, of course. What Bella didn’t know was how to prepare for anything. No one had seen her since she’d left the Magic Realm, and that was quite some time ago. Bella had no idea where she’d gone, or what she was planning, or even what she was capable of anymore. Knowing Circe Toledo, she’d found some other way of reaching her goals. She was like that. At the time, Bella had found it somehow impressive, but now it was simply terrifying, and Bella couldn’t think of another way of describing it. She was beyond ambitious. Circe Toledo was a megalomaniac, but she’d also been Bella’s friend once, and she wanted that friend back.

It was pointless. She and Circe would never be friends again, Circe had settled that quite thoroughly the day she’d decided all of the Goth line were her enemy.

“I know you miss her,” Mortimer said, his tone quiet as he leaned his forehead against Bella’s. “She’s not the same person you became friends with.”

“I know she’s not,” Bella whispered. “I just can’t help but think that maybe if I’d been a better friend -“

“No, Bella,” Mortimer said, reaching up to tilt her head up to look at him. “No. There was nothing you could’ve done. It’s not bad friends and misfortune that drive someone to depravity. It’s their own mind.”

He was right. Though she didn’t really want to admit it, Bella knew he was right. She sighed quietly. Sometimes, it was nice just to be close to him. She was his muse, and he was her rock, or so it seemed to be how things turned out. No matter how much other people thought Bella had only married him for his money, that wasn’t how it was. Maybe he wasn’t the most attractive Sim she’d ever seen, maybe there were richer Sims out there, but he did have a way of making her feel special.

No, she did love him, very much, and she was happy with him.

“I didn’t think she’d pursue revenge,” Bella said. “I’m not even sure if I can safely say that she is.” It was also possible she’d forgotten it all, given the chance to live a different life. Losing everything you’d worked so hard for did have a way of being awfully humbling.

“I’ll work on some warding spells,” Mortimer said. “We can’t be too careful, and I know you think she wouldn’t, but I don’t want us to be caught off-guard if you’re wrong.” It was hard to say what she’d do, especially since she and Bella weren’t as close as they used to be. They had _children_ now, and they couldn’t afford to take chances on ‘I don’t think.’

“Okay,” Bella agreed. “Then, I can manage some talismans and amulets.” They weren’t really a speciality of her family, that was alchemy, but they did know how to make a few protective amulets and charms. It was worth a try, and perhaps in combination with Mortimer’s warding spells, it’d work out. It was just unfortunate that Cornelia wasn’t still around. She’d be a lot of help.

“That sounds -” Mortimer stopped, just as another metallic _clanking_ sounded, and this time they could hear the water spraying into whichever room it was up there. Mortimer closed his eyes, gently tapped his head against Bella’s, and sighed. “Fine,” he said. “That sounds fine. I wonder if _this_ has anything to do with _her_.” He kissed Bella’s cheek, letting go and transportalating upstairs.

It was possible their current appliances issue had something to do with her. Bella wouldn’t deny that. She just couldn’t prove that it did, and what did it matter? There weren’t easy ways of fighting things like this.

* * *

It was so late, Cassandra was wondering what she was even doing awake. Maybe it was a nightmare or something, it was hard for her to tell. She sat up in bed, staying under the covers for a few minutes to let herself adjust to the darkness. It was so quiet she could swear she heard the neighbours talking, but after a moment or two she realised that was her mother’s voice. What was Bella doing awake so late? That was odd, she had to get up so early for work most days, she went to sleep very early, and Cassandra was fairly sure she didn’t have the day off.

Cassandra shook her head. It wasn’t her concern, and she should leave it alone. Still, the words that floated up from downstairs were… interesting, to say the least, and she couldn’t deny some curiosity. Quietly, she slipped out of bed and down the stairs. Her room was on the top floor, _was_ the top floor, and it was a bit easier for her to do things like slip unnoticed down the stairs. Fortunately, nothing creaked particularly loudly, much to her relief.

“Yes, but I don’t think she’d go there,” Bella’s voice said. Cassandra didn’t hear a response, just a stretch of silence. “You’re welcome to look, of course, but I don’t think you’ll find anything,” Bella said. Who was she talking to? Maybe she was talking on the phone with someone, but who was she talking _about_? Cassandra slipped further down the staircase. She peeked around the banister, and managed to catch sight of her mother’s dark curly hair.

“If you think your hunch is worth that much, then go,” Bella said. There was no phone that Cassandra could see. She didn’t seem to have an earpiece in, either, but she was facing one of the chairs. Or was she facing the wall, and the chair just happened to be there? What was she on about? This was the strangest thing to happen in this house since Halloween five years ago.

Cassandra felt a little chilled, despite the air not being particularly cold. It was the same thing as that Halloween. It felt like there was someone, no, _something_ , else in the house. Mortimer and Bella didn’t seem alarmed, but Cassandra found that to be a small comfort. Mortimer and Bella _never_ seemed alarmed. Honestly, that time Bella had set herself on fire, she didn’t even seem that upset about _that_.

“Just be careful,” Bella said to the chair. “You and I both know she still has ways of detecting your presence, and it could end badly for you. If we’re lucky you’ll just go where you’re meant to, but she might have other ideas.”

From what Cassandra could gather, Bella was telling… _whatever_ she was talking to, to be careful in search of someone. Who was it they were looking for? Maybe one of their family members. Cassandra remembered seeing the family tree one time, but there were a lot of portraits and names on it she didn’t recognise, portraits and names of Sims that hadn’t been seen in years. By now, though, they were all likely _dead_ , right?

“Yes, I know,” Bella said. “I’m just trying not to get on her bad side. You know what an opponent she can be. Mortimer’s already worried, and he has a right to be by now. We don’t need to go making it worse.” She paused, and then sadly added, “Yeah, I guess so. It’s just so hard to think of her like that.”

Eventually, Cassandra cleared her throat, standing up and walking the rest of the way down the stairs. “Mother?” she asked.

“Oh, hi Cassandra,” she said. “Can’t sleep?” she asked.

“I had a nightmare I think,” Cassandra replied. “I came down for water. Who are you talking to?”

Bella blinked in confusion, her head tilting to one side. “Talking to?” she asked. “Are you hearing things now? You might have an ear infection, then. I always get the worst nightmares when I have ear infections.”

“I don’t think I was hearing… things…” Cassandra answered, her eyebrows furrowing together. “It was all your voice.”

Bella smiled. “Oooh,” she started. “You must’ve heard me talking to myself. I do that sometimes when I need to think something through, and I’m having trouble figuring it out. It’s useful to ask a professional for advice, after all.” With that last statement, Bella threw in a wink.

Cassandra _almost_ believed it, but her mother’s fingers were tapping together rapidly. They did that every time she told a lie, but Cassandra wasn’t sure what she would be lying about. In the end, she supposed it didn’t really matter any. Maybe this was her mother’s kind way of saying that whatever she’d overheard was none of her business, and Cassandra could accept that. She supposed it really _wasn’t_ any of her business, even if she was curious. Cassandra sighed slightly, more to herself.

“Maybe I’m still partway in bed,” she said. “I’ll just get that water, and go back up. See you in the morning.” With that, Cassandra went down the last of the stairs, and shuffled into the kitchen. After a few moments, Bella could hear the tap running.

That was close. She was just going to be glad that Cassandra didn’t tend to be too insistent about anything, and whatever she thought about the incident would remain in her head. Bella wasn’t sure she was ready to explain everything to her, but she also supposed she didn’t have much choice, either. Sooner or later, she’d have to. Well, perhaps that time wasn’t quite now.

“Sorry about that,” she said, turning back to the man in the chair. He’d died some thirty years ago, but he was a good friend of her mother’s, and he’d been doing her favours here and there when he was bored.

“It’s fine,” the ghost replied. “She’s grown so much since I saw her last.”

“She has,” Bella agreed. “We’ll talk more tomorrow about this, okay?”

“Of course,” he replied. “Do be careful, dear Bella,” he warned. “I don’t know what Circe is up to, but the divide between life and death is thinner than it was before, and this could be quite dangerous.” With one last meaningful look, the man disappeared, and Bella was left with her turbulent thoughts.

* * *

The soft tinkling of her jewellery pieces falling into the jewellery box that sat on the vanity was notably louder when there was no other sound in the room. Behind her, Mortimer had already laid down in bed, reading a book quietly until she was done removing all her jewellery. Bella had already gotten her makeup washed off, and now that just left her earrings and necklaces. Some of these pieces had delicate chains, and could break easily. Sleeping with such pieces still on probably wasn’t her best idea.

Bella sighed to herself, eyeing Mortimer through the mirror. She could see him behind her. Wordlessly, Mortimer lowered the book he was reading, glancing at her. “My dear,” he started, setting the book down with his wrist saving his place, “you sound upset.”

Passive-aggression was never really her thing anyway, she supposed. Bella shrugged one shoulder, her arms falling to her lap. “Cassandra came downstairs last night in the middle of my talking to Greg,” she said. Greg was the ghost’s name, and he’d been one of Jocasta’s childhood friends. If she was guessing correctly, Greg had a bit of a crush on Jocasta, Bella’s mother, but hadn’t said anything. In some sense, Greg had been something of another parent to Bella. Her own father was, sure, but she’d considered Greg an uncle, in a way. Certainly, he was family somehow. When he was gone, it was an unfortunate loss, and Bella had been devastated too. Why he insisted on staying, _that_ no one knew, but Bella had a feeling he was waiting for something. Or _someone_.

“How’d she take it?” Mortimer asked. He seemed a lot less concerned about it than Bella was, but this was normal.

Bella shook her head. “I don’t think she believed what I told her,” Bella answered, “simply seemed like she had no idea what _else_ to think.”

Mortimer hummed softly. “Well, no sense in getting all twisted up about it, my love,” he said. “Cassandra will either ask about it, or she won’t.” Most likely, she wouldn’t, because Cassandra generally kept her head down. As much as either of them didn’t _like_ it, they knew it was the truth.

“I suppose so,” Bella said, fiddling with her nails. “I’m just usually much better about it than that. It feels like I’m suddenly getting careless, and I can’t afford to be.”

“You’re worried, aren’t you?” Mortimer asked, frowning. He set his bookmark in the pages of his book, placing the book on the side table, and held one arm out. Bella pouted a little, but she stood up and crawled across the bed to lay her head on his shoulder. “It’ll be okay,” Mortimer said, rubbing her arm.

“How can you always be so calm?” Bella asked.

He supposed that was a fair, and understandable, question. After a moment of thinking, though, Mortimer shrugged lightly. “I think because you and the kids need me to be,” he said. “I told you you’re my muse. Most of the time, you’re also what I draw my strength from.”

Bella’s heart melted a little bit. Mortimer had never told her that before, and somehow it made her feel a little better, and a bit stronger, to hear it. Maybe that was how it was supposed to work; one was supposed to find their strength in the things and people that mattered the most. Bella smiled. “I love you,” she said, snuggling down a little closer around his arm.

Mortimer laughed quietly. “I love you too,” he answered. “So, what news did Greg have for you?”

Bella’s good mood almost went away entirely. None of the news Greg had was _good_ news, but certainly it could’ve been much worse. “He’s found Circe,” she said.

“Really?” Mortimer wasn’t expecting her to be found so easily. Then again, Bella’s ghost friends, a speciality of her family line due to their ties to the paranormal, were able to see and hear things, and visit places, that the living generally were unable to. Ghosts were even capable of observing without being noticed by others, and it was a valuable skill in this particular line of work, so to say.

“Yes,” Bella said. “She’s in Forgotten Hollow.”

Mortimer frowned slightly. Just what would Circe be doing in Forgotten Hollow of all places? Then again, the rumours said that Forgotten Hollow was founded and run by a vampire, a particularly old one. If anyone outside of the Magic Realm could give Circe the power she was searching for, it would be a very old vampire. That couldn’t be a good sign, but Mortimer was quite certain it was too late to prevent this mess. Most likely, the mess was already here, they simply had yet to realise _how_ much of a mess it was.

“That can’t bode well,” Mortimer murmured.

“Vampire magic isn’t exactly effective against spellcasters,” Bella said.

“No, not spellcasters like myself and my mother,” Mortimer agreed. “But you have very little magical defences outside of potions, and Cassandra and Alexander…” They weren’t even aware they were spellcasters at all.

“You don’t think she’d go after them, do you?” Bella asked, her eyebrows furrowing together. When they did that, there was a little dimple that appeared in the middle of her forehead and Mortimer thought it was the cutest.

“I can’t take the chance of assuming she won’t, and being wrong,” Mortimer replied. It really was that simple. He had to treat Circe like she was a vicious and untamed monster with no morality whatsoever, because if he didn’t, and she did something he wasn’t expecting… he couldn’t lose them. He couldn’t.

Bella went quiet, drawing a breath in. He was probably right about that. She liked to think Circe wouldn’t do that, but there were a great many things she’d once believed Circe wouldn’t do, and she’d been proven wrong about them all. Maybe it was time to just accept that Circe was no longer the person she used to know. Yet even in thinking that, Bella wasn’t sure she could.

“No, I guess we can’t,” Bella agreed. “What do we do?” Maybe Mortimer had a bright idea.

“What we’ve always been doing, for now,” he answered. “We go on and live like today’s the last chance we’ll have. And maybe we ought to tell at least Cassandra what’s going on.”

“I don’t think she needs to know all this yet, Mortimer.”

“She’s almost eighteen now,” Mortimer answered. “It may be about time. If nothing else, we should at _least_ tell her she’s a spellcaster. It’s time she be allowed to make the choice of whether she’ll embrace her heritage or not.”

Bella hummed. “I suppose,” she said. “I’m just not sure now’s really the time.”

Mortimer leaned over just so, pressing a kiss to Bella’s temple. “If we wait too long,” he said, “we’ll never tell her, and her magic will inevitably be noticeable when it awakens. Magic isn’t quiet.” And neither were Goths.


	5. Chapter 5

A dash of this, a little bit of that… ah, perhaps a little bit less parsley next time, she thought. It wasn’t like it tasted terrible, most likely. Cassandra was just being overly picky, but she supposed being picky about the food they ate was not the worst thing in the world. This was a recipe she hadn’t tried yet, but all her other recipes seemed to be well received, so Cassandra figured trying the next one wouldn’t be a bad idea.

It smelled good, at least.

As she worked, humming softly to herself, she heard Alexander come in behind her and start washing the dishes. He still had a bit of soap on his arm. That was odd. “Hey kiddo,” she said.

“Hi Cass,” he answered.

“You’re a little soapy still,” she said. “What’s up? I thought you were in the shower.”

Alexander laughed slightly under his breath. “ _Was_ in the shower,” he replied. “Said shower decided to suddenly break while I was in it. Did you know broken showers just kind of leak cold water everywhere?”

Cassandra looked sympathetic. That had to have been unpleasant. Of course, the plumbing and appliances had been breaking nonstop since… well, Cassandra couldn’t really say for sure when it’d started, only that it certainly had and it’d been so long now she no longer remembered when. It usually wasn’t much of a problem. Things broke maybe once or twice a week, which is common, but not constant. Now, though, it seemed like something was always broken.

It was hard to say why, though. Cassandra didn’t know much about these sorts of things. She’d never had occasion to learn about appliances and the nuances of plumbing. Being fair about it, she wasn’t terribly _interested_ in it until now, either, but that was perhaps a whole other issue. She frowned, thinking to herself, as she busied herself getting dinner out onto plates. Alexander had also gone quiet, washing the dishes over there.

The most interesting part to Cassandra was that neither Mortimer nor Bella seemed truly _concerned_ about the fact nothing in their house managed to remain unbroken. It seemed strange the furniture was ever in one piece, but she supposed she didn’t need to go tempting fate with that one.

“It’s so strange everything’s always breaking now,” Cassandra said. It was more to herself, but Alexander snorted softly. He’d gotten the soap off his arm with the kitchen tap.

“It is,” he agreed. “And mom and dad don’t seem to want to do anything about it except fix it when something breaks. Maybe this is normal?”

“I highly doubt this is normal, Alexander,” Cassandra answered. No one she knew ever said anything about everything breaking all the time. That _could_ just be because it was normal, and no one thought to mention it, but wouldn’t everyone talk about certain things more, like repairman costs, or how annoying it was to fix things all the time?

“I’ve got no other ideas,” Alex said. He finished the small amount of dishes, and headed to the dining room to set the table.

“Maybe the house is just old,” Cassandra suggested. And that was possible. Maybe nothing seemed to last in this house because it’d lasted for a long time already. She wouldn’t deny that possibility, which would also explain why their parents didn’t seem to be too alarmed.

“I guess,” Alexander said, setting down the plates on the table. “It just seems like a lot to be happening because the house is just _old_. Shouldn’t we replace some stuff if that’s the case?”

Cassandra frowned in thought. That was a good question. Why _didn’t_ they replace some things to make their appliances stop breaking all the time? Maybe they were running out of money. Cassandra considered that for a moment. That would also explain why the butler was gone now. If they couldn’t afford to pay him, it’d make sense if he left of his own volition, or her parents sent him on to better horizons. One couldn’t live on good intentions, of course.

Alexander certainly didn’t need to be worrying about their finances. She mulled over something to say that wouldn’t give away her thoughts for a few minutes, but then Alexander came over to her and started talking again.

“Well, they were talking about sage or something,” Alexander said. “But I don’t know what _that’s_ supposed to mean. Isn’t a sage a plant?”

“It’s an herb,” Cassandra replied. “Usually used in food seasoning.”

“Maybe they’re planting more herbs in the garden,” Alexander said, his face screwing up in mild confusion. “I’m not really sure how more herbs in the garden will help.”

Cassandra had an idea. If they had more plants in the garden producing crop that could be sold, it might help make up for the financial deficit. But Alexander was too young to be concerned about things like that.

“Maybe that’s just to help with making dinner,” Cassandra suggested.

“Oh!” Alexander looked surprised, like he hadn’t thought of that. “That sounds more logical.”

Cassandra giggled quietly at him. He was cute, really, but sometimes her brother also tended to miss very obvious things. What was the saying, book smart but common sense stupid? It wasn’t _exactly_ like that. Most things Alexander picked up on just fine. Other things seemed to slip right under his nose or through his fingers, so to say. It wasn’t his fault, it just was.

“Did you do your homework?” she asked. Come to think of it, she didn’t remember seeing him do it when he came home from school.

“Not yet,” Alexander answered. “I’ll do it after dinner.”

Cassandra nodded once. “Make sure you don’t forget,” she said, handing him the plate to go onto the dining room table for them to eat. “Go set this on the table and then get dad, I’ll go get mom.”

“Okay!” Alexander then happily ran off.

Cassandra wondered if she should ask about what was going on. It was like she never had the opportunity, and if it _did_ have anything to do with the finances, she didn’t want to ask around Alexander. Maybe later she’d figure out what to do. For now though, it was dinner time.

* * *

With the shower having broken _again_ the night before, Cassandra had been careful not to take a shower in one of the showers that was difficult to get out of the water stream in. Just in case it decided it was going to spit cold water, or entirely hot water, randomly, she could get herself out of it before it gave her trouble. Alexander seemed to have a sudden aversion to taking a shower at all, and had apparently decided to start taking _baths_ instead, but this meant he was always upstairs using Cassandra’s bathroom, because hers was the only one with a tub.

She was working on her homework in the dining room again. Alexander had already done his, fortunately, but he hadn’t gotten distracted this time in his defence. She smiled a little to herself, working out the maths problem in front of her. It wasn’t her favourite or her best subject, but she was capable of doing it at the very least. Alexander was a lot better at mathematics than Cassandra had ever been, but fortunately she didn’t want to be a mathematician or anything.

The door opened and closed, the clack-clacking of her mother’s heels echoing in the entryway. They used to have something of a foyer, but didn’t anymore.

“Welcome home,” Cassandra greeted.

Bella didn’t say anything, simply glanced into the kitchen, looked _immensely_ annoyed, and sat down at the table. That wasn’t a good sign. Apparently the day had gone terribly, and Cassandra felt bad about it. It wasn’t really _her_ fault, but she’d never been fond of seeing her family upset. Cassandra wasn’t really a family-person, so to say, like her mother was, but there were some values you picked up from being raised by such a person.

“I take it your day wasn’t so great?” she asked.

“ _Men_ ,” Bella answered, her tone venomous. “They seem to have the sudden inability to hear or see or _think_ around attractive women. Do yourself a favour, Cassandra, and get a man that loves your head, not your chest.”

Cassandra looked a little uncomfortable, shifting in her seat. She didn’t have her mother’s um, chest. That was entirely a Bella Goth thing, something Cassandra hadn’t inherited, and frankly she was glad for that, because it seemed like shopping for undergarments was more complicated the larger your chest was. It was difficult enough already for her, given how shy Cassandra was. She’d never gotten Bella’s confidence, either.

“I’ll try and remember that,” Cassandra replied. She’d be surprised if anyone was ever interested in her. The Goths were wealthy, or at least the last she checked they were, but they were also known for their strange habits and weird beliefs, and some even rumoured the Goths had ties to the occult. (Cassandra had yet to see evidence of the last, but what did she really know? There were likely plenty of things her parents didn’t decide to tell her.)

“How was school?” Bella asked.

Cassandra shrugged. “Just fine I guess,” she said. “So, the shower broke again last night. And the toilet this morning. Any ideas why?” It was worth just asking. Sometimes if she asked outright, one or the other parent would tell the truth. She was sure Bella and Mortimer discussed things between each other and decided what to tell their kids and what not to, maybe they even corroborated their lies when they decided to lie, but occasionally they gave straight answers.

“It’s a long story,” Bella answered. “One you don’t really need to worry about. That’s for your father and I to figure out.”

That wasn’t a real answer as far as Cassandra was concerned, but as she opened her mouth to reword her question and start pushing her mother a bit, Bella’s gaze hardened and turned into that warning look. All Bella Goth had to do was look at her children a certain way, and they understood that they would be pushing their luck if they kept whatever it was they were doing up.

“I see,” Cassandra said instead, loosing a quiet sigh. That was notably less information than she was hoping to get out of her mother, but then she also hadn’t really been _expecting_ to get more than that, it was true.

Bella didn’t say anything more on the subject, simply reached over and patted her daughter’s hand. It was logical that she might start questioning such things, but these weren’t things she needed to be worrying about. It was probably just the mother in Bella. She’d much rather her daughter stayed young and innocent a little longer. Sooner or later, maybe Circe wouldn’t give her a choice but to grow up, so Bella wanted her and Alexander to have as much of a childhood as they could before then.

Maybe it was all a futile effort. Despite all her skill in divination, one thing that was difficult to determine was how one felt. There was a saying that the Watcher could see everything except what was in Sims’ hearts. The same was true for fortune-tellers and the like. Mortimer was right and Bella likely couldn’t have stopped Circe’s descent, but she still felt like…

It didn’t matter. And maybe in some way, sheltering Cassandra and Alexander from the truth for too long might yet be putting them in danger. Bella knew that. The sooner they could start Cassandra’s magical training, the better, because Mortimer wasn’t getting any younger, and Bella knew that better than most.

“You’ll understand someday,” Bella said, quietly. She stood up then, heading up the stairs. Cassandra watched her go, and then heard another metallic creaking sound and a _clank_ to the right. Brown eyes moved from the staircase to the kitchen, finding the kitchen sink spraying water all over the floor. Cassandra tried not to roll her eyes, but her expression puckered like she’d bitten a lemon. “Daaaad!”

Unfortunately, Mortimer was the only one that could fix these things when they broke, but at this rate, maybe Cassandra should look into levelling her handiness skills.

* * *

The birds were chirping, and mostly, Cassandra wanted them to shut up. She groaned, rolled over in bed, and shoved the covers over her head. It only dimmed the sound of the birds chirruping outside her window very slightly, and she was beginning to get annoyed by it. It seemed another five or ten minutes of sleeping wasn’t in the cards for her today.

The girl sighed, sitting up and tossing the covers off her. Eventually, she got out of bed, putting the covers back in place on her bed, and glanced in the mirror. She should wash her face at least; those teenage pores were getting a little unruly.

As she tried to block out the sound of the birds, she heard another sound. It seemed to be running water, and that was curious because – then again, with the plumbing breaking all the time, maybe that wasn’t too surprising. Cassandra rolled her eyes at herself in the mirror, moving around her room to the bathroom. The sound became louder, and she opened the door to find her bathtub, toilet, _and_ the sink all spraying water everywhere.

Cassandra heaved another sigh, closing the door again and heading down the stairs. Interestingly, she could hear the sound of running water on this floor, too, and on the ground floor. There was another sound down here, though. It sounded… electrical? And perhaps like fire. Fire?!

Quickly, Cassandra ran down the stairs two at a time, and rushed into the kitchen.

“Oh, good morning dear,” her mother greeted, mopping up the water off the floor where the kitchen sink was spraying it. There was a consistent dripping from the refrigerator, which seemed to be crackling, and the fire sound was the stove leaking flames.

“What… happened?” she asked, confused.

“Everything in the house broke overnight, I think,” Bella replied. She sounded so nonchalant about all this, Cassandra was really starting to wonder about her.

“I see.”

“Even the refrigerator broke!” Bella exclaimed.

Cassandra blinked, looking back at the fridge. Was that what the leaking and the electrical crackling was? She’d hate to be the poor Sim that had to _fix_ that fridge, with it dripping water and crackling that way. That seemed a little more dangerous than she was willing to forgive. Oh, no her father had to fix that, didn’t he?

“I didn’t even know refrigerators can _break_ ,” she murmured under her breath. Bella cheerfully moved from the kitchen to the hall bathroom, just a toilet and a sink, as Cassandra stared in confusion at the chaos that was their kitchen.

“Everything’s broken!” Alexander exclaimed, running down the stairs. He stopped, gasping at the stove. “Literally _everything_!”

Cassandra sighed, reaching out to pat his shoulder. “I think morning showers are cancelled today,” she said.

“Apparently so,” he agreed.

This was getting ridiculous. _Normal_ people’s houses didn’t suddenly have _everything_ in their house break overnight! That was not to imply Cassandra was ever under the impression the Goths were normal whatsoever. But a little sense of normalcy of _some_ kind would have been expected in this situation. They could at least _pretend_ they weren’t weirdos. And no, she didn’t figure this was really _their_ fault, but maybe it was in some sense given they seemed unwilling to do anything about it at all.

Cassandra just didn’t know _what_ to think.

“I’m going to go wait for the bus outside,” Alexander said, getting his bookbag from the hall closet. “If the house starts gushing water, I don’t really want to be in it.” Alexander then turned and headed out front of the house to stand on the sidewalk and wait. The kid probably had the right of it, but Cassandra’s head was whirling with too many turbulent thoughts to figure anything out.

She turned at the sound of metallic clanking. Mortimer appeared in the hallway (no, he must’ve turned a corner), and turned towards Cassandra. He looked surprised for a moment, and then maybe almost embarrassed, and then he held a wrench up.

“Good morning pumpkin,” he greeted. “Could you do me a favour and call the repairman?”

Cassandra blinked in surprise. “Um, sure, but why?” He was normally one to take care of the repairs personally, so it didn’t really make sense to her that he’d want her to call anyone.

“Well, everything in the house is broken,” Mortimer explained. “And I’m only one person and can’t quite manage to fix them all in a timely manner. Unfortunately,” he glanced at his watch, “I have to go to work in another two hours. It’d be more beneficial to just have the repair company send out a hand or two.”

He had a point, Cassandra realised. If he had to go to work soon, then he wouldn’t have enough time to fix everything in the house. As much as Cassandra would much rather not think about it, her father wasn’t quite as spritely as he used to be. “Okay,” she said, nodding once. “I’ll do that before I go.”

“Thank you,” Mortimer said. “Have a good day at school, I need to get a shower in.” He ran upstairs, and Cassandra sighed a little, pulling her phone out.

“Let’s see…” She wanted to call the repair company… a little bit of scrolling, and she found the right option on the phone. Every Sim’s phone was preprogrammed with useful numbers, and the repair company’s was one. She held the phone up to her ear, listening to it ring. Eventually, the call connected and someone answered.

“Thank you for calling Simadonia National Repair Company, how can I help?” the operator answered.

“Yeah, I need a repairman out to Ophelia Villa in Willow Creek as soon as possible,” Cassandra answered.

“Alrighty, and what’s broken?” the operator asked.

Cassandra leaned over, peeking her head into the kitchen. The sink still gushed water, the fridge still crackled, the stove still whooshed with flames. “Um…. _everything_ ,” she said.

“Everything?” the operator asked.

“Yep, everything. Did you know refrigerators can break?”

There was some silence on the line. “I’ll send our best repairman over as soon as possible. Thank you for choosing Simadonia National Repair Company, and have a cherry topped blessed day!”

The phone clicked, and Cassandra turned the screen off. That was a greeting. Well, it was probably time for school. With that, she left the mess in the kitchen to whichever hapless repairman was sent to their house.


	6. Chapter 6

It was time.

Cassandra had no idea how successful she’d be. Her parents seemed rather intent to hide everything from her in this particular instance, and she could only hope that asking, once again, what all this was about would get her somewhere new. She needed to know what was going on. She lived here too, after all, and she wasn’t as young as Alexander so there was no reason to keep things from her like this when it affected _everyone_ that lived here.

Instead of going in the second she got home, she stood outside in front of the house by the gate, waiting. Bella always came home first. Most likely, she’d be the one Cassandra had to deal with, and she thought she was ready for it. Neither of her parents were terribly _obsinate_ , to be fair about it. They had their moments when they really put their foot down, but it was usually for much better reasons than Cassandra asking questions they weren’t ready to answer.

She’d admit, at least, that it was possible they _weren’t_ ready to answer, and she may not be ready for the answer. At this point, though, things were going so weird all the time, Cassandra almost didn’t care.

She paced a little, waiting. It wasn’t too long before Bella’s heels came clacking up to the gate. “Did something catch on fire?” she asked, shifting her weight from one leg to the other.

Cassandra shook her head. “No,” she said, fidgeting with her sleeve. Her mother never yelled at her or Alexander. Bella had other ways of getting her point across without raising her voice, and Cassandra envied that. She hoped, if ever she had children of her own, she could replicate that ability. It’d certainly served her mother well over the years, and Cassandra had no doubt it would also serve her very well.

“What’s wrong, dear?” Bella asked, breaking Cassandra’s wandering thoughts.

She tried not to fidget too much. “Well, I’m almost eighteen now,” she said, her tone uncertain and soft. Bella frowned slightly. “And, I think I’m old enough to know when something’s going on around the house.”

Oh. Bella looked slightly annoyed, but she didn’t argue any.

“So, what’s going on? People don’t normally have their entire house’s appliances break overnight.”

Of course that was what she wanted to know. Well, Bella and Mortimer had intended to tell her the truth sooner or later _anyway_ , she supposed now was as good a time as any. Except it was _crappy_ timing. That wasn’t Cassandra’s fault, certainly, but it still managed to annoy Bella just a bit. “We’re spellcasters,” Bella said, flatly.

“I’m sorry, we’re _what_?” Cassandra asked, taking a step back, one hand raising to her chest in surprise. What was she talking about?

“Spellcasters,” Bella replied. “Most Sims know us as witches or whatever. The rumours that the Goths have ties to the occult, they’re not entirely wrong. Actually, the Goth family helped found Magic Realm many generations ago. You’re practically a princess over there.” _Almost_ , but not quite, and as Mortimer liked to say, almost didn’t count.

“Oh.” Cassandra paused for a moment, her gaze falling to the concrete sidewalk. “So, why is everything breaking?”

“We think,” Bella replied, “that someone’s cursed us. Of course we can’t prove that, and even if we could, curses are difficult to fight, sometimes.”

“Curses are a thing,” Cassandra whispered.

“Of course,” Bella answered. “You can get a few of them just by messing up your spellcasting too much, actually.”

Wait, if spellcasters existed, and if her mother was to be believed, they did, then so did magic. _Magic_ existed, what was she even supposed to _do_ with that knowledge? Cassandra looked confused, one of her eyebrows raising in disbelief. One hand raised to her head, the palm of her hand pressing against her forehead.

“Oh, _wow_ …” That was a lot to handle. Being honest about it, Cassandra wasn’t sure what to do with it. How did she even begin to process this? And _she_ was a spellcaster, too? That meant she could do magic, presumably, if spellcaster was equivalent to witch. “So, you and dad are…?”

“Yes,” Bella replied.

“So Alexander and I are…”

“Mhm.”

“Oh… _wow_ …” Cassandra repeated.

Bella snorted softly. “Mortimer wants to pretend this isn’t happening,” she said. “I want to pretend this isn’t happening. You and your brother are dormant for now, you’ll gain your powers later, but right now we’ve got bigger problems, and it’s probably a piece of plumbing.” Bella had been making talismans and amulets like she’d said she would. With that in mind, she reached into the pocket of her slacks, and pulled a pendant out of it, holding the necklace out to Cassandra by its chain. Cassandra hesitantly took it.

“What’s this?” she asked, turning the crystal over in her hands. It was wrapped in blackened wire, attached to a dark chain. Though she could barely tell in the sunlight, it looked like it was sparkling from within.

“It’s a protection amulet,” Bella answered. “It’s a fairly popular one in Magic Realm. I stopped by Caster’s Alley to get a few crystals to make a couple. We’re not entirely sure what exactly we’re up against, and neither of us can prove or disprove it is what and who we think it is, but it can’t hurt to be too careful. Don’t talk to strange people on the street you don’t know, especially if they seem to like purple. You’re a smart girl, you’ll know who to avoid, I’m sure.”

Cassandra wasn’t. A protection amulet, her mother said, like everyone got one of those for their eighteenth birthday. (It probably wasn’t a birthday gift, but it was still strange.)

“Okay,” she said. Truthfully, Cassandra wasn’t sure _what_ to say. How was this even fair? She’d expected something _normal_ like the house was old and they were running out of money, or the plumbing was messed up, or _something_ , but not this. Never, ever this.

“I have to go call the repair company again,” Bella grumbled, looking at her phone. “One of the toilets broke, _again_.” Bella cursed under her breath, moving the front gate out of her way and stalking into the house.

Cassandra gazed at the pendant her mother had given her. It felt warm to the touch, and had a strange feeling to it. Almost like it was saying hello. She smiled slightly, putting the necklace around her neck and fastening it. It added a comforting weight to her collar, and she felt like she could get used to it.

Maybe she _was_ a spellcaster. It felt like she’d waited her whole life to meet this pendant. What a strange feeling. She looked uncertain for a moment, and then turned and went into the house. Maybe she’d hide in her room for a bit, and figure out how she felt about this.

* * *

Bella couldn’t help the nerves. Cassandra had been in her room all day with the door closed. She hadn’t tried opening it, but Bella wasn’t so certain she _wanted_ to. Teenagers that were annoyed by being interrupted by something or _someone_ could be rather the vicious force when they chose to be, Bella knew that very well. Instead, she occasionally peeked at the door to see if Cassandra had opened it, and then went back to working on the research she was doing for work.

Was she too blunt? Bella wasn’t sure what the best choice might’ve been at the time. She probably should have been a little less flat about it. And Cassandra likely had questions, questions that only Bella and Mortimer could answer for her. On the other hand, that was a lot of information to process, and it had all been dumped in her lap rather instantly and without any warning. Bella was mentally kicking herself.

The five hundredth time Bella got up to look at Cassandra’s door, and then go back downstairs, Mortimer sighed and set the newspaper he was reading down. “Bella, love,” he said. “What are you getting up and sitting back down constantly for?”

Bella blinked, and then made a concerned expression. “Cassandra’s not come out of her room since she got back from school,” she explained. “I’m just worried.”

Mortimer sighed, though he understood well enough. Bella _had_ somewhat gone off on a blunt tangent earlier when Cassandra had asked what was going on at home. He couldn’t say her concern was unfounded, and Bella was a very family-leaned woman. If things weren’t quite right at home, then she couldn’t seem to settle down.

“It’ll be okay, Bella,” he said. “We intended to tell her the truth soon anyway.”

Bella snorted slightly. “Yes, but probably not so gracelessly and bluntly. I had an entire speech thought up in my head I was going to go through, you know, not just dump it all in her lap like that. Sure she’s almost an adult now, but it’s just so much and I know that.”

Mortimer’s eyebrows raised for a moment, and then he shrugged slightly. Perhaps they should have told the kids about their magical heritage much sooner than this, raised them with the knowledge like his mother had insisted, because it would’ve been better in the long-run. Certainly, it would’ve been far less shocking when they reached _this_ point, and Mortimer had always known they’d be here someday. Bella had to have known too.

“Cassandra’s more level-headed than most teenagers,” Mortimer said. “She just needs time to parse it, that’s all. It’s a lot to deal with. Magic is real and you can do it isn’t something most Sims her age expect to be told.”

No, Bella didn’t imagine they did. “Do you think she’ll hate me?” Bella asked in a small voice.

Mortimer frowned. “Is that what you’re worried about?”

“I turned her whole life upside down, Mortimer,” Bella said. “It seems logical to me she might resent me a little.”

“Oh love, no,” Mortimer answered, shaking his head. “You’re her mother, and you’ve always meant the best for her. Of course she won’t hate you. Just be honest about those intentions and tell her the truth of why we hid it for so long. Answer her questions, be open, and remember what it was like to be her age and unsure of yourself. That’s all it takes, you know that, Bella.”

Did she? Maybe once she did, but it felt like steadily she’d forgotten what it was like to be young and uncertain. _Had_ Bella ever truly been young and uncertain? There had to be a time when she was just that, but at the moment, Bella couldn’t recall that time. Bella wasn’t _quite_ so young as she looked. Simply put, she was vain and very good at crafting youth potions. Mortimer had decided to forego them, but it wasn’t like he didn’t wear his age well, so Bella had no complaints.

“I’ll bet tomorrow Cassandra’s downstairs making breakfast like she always is,” Mortimer said. “And she’ll talk to us like nothing has changed. We can’t force her to talk, love. This is something she’ll need to come to terms with on her own in her own time. Just have patience, and faith.”

Bella wasn’t _always_ known for her patience, but it was a virtue she had when she wanted to. Bella sighed, smiling a little in his direction. She was so glad to have him with her, and honestly, she didn’t know what she’d do if he wasn’t here anymore. Someday that was inevitably a reality they’d all have to face, but in the meantime, she was going to enjoy not having to panic silently to herself. He was pretty good at sorting out the mess in her head and stilling the chaos.

“How do you do that?” she asked, her voice almost a purr.

Mortimer laughed a little. “I know you very well,” he said. “You do the same for me from time to time.”

She couldn’t remember when, but if he said so, she’d have to believe him. Bella had no reason to doubt him, anyway. “I guess I do,” she said. “Well, since Cassandra’s apparently not coming down for dinner, maybe we should think about ordering takeout.” It was either that or Bella was going to try and cook something. Or Mortimer could attempt to fire up the grill, but the weather had turned cold and rainy. Autumn was here, and it wasn’t going to be terribly quiet about it, it’d seem.

Mortimer nodded. “That’s probably for the best,” he said. “Alexander?” he called.

“Yeah dad?” The boy was in the hallway playing with one of his toys.

“How’s pizza sound?” Mortimer asked.

“Really?” They never got pizza at the Goth house! (If Alexander had to guess, it was because most of the pizza restaurants in the area refused to deliver to the Goth residence, and the few that did were far and demanded high delivery charges.)

“Sure,” Mortimer answered. “Do you want cheese pizza?”

“Yes! Thanks mom and dad!” Alexander then ran down the hall squealing and telling his toy dinosaur all about their getting pizza.

Mortimer glanced at Bella, looking amused. “At least one of them’s happy.”

* * *

It was a quiet day, and one of Mortimer’s days off. Bella had to work today, and Alexander had gone off to the park not far away. He enjoyed playing on the jungle gyms, and the Goths unfortunately didn’t have the backyard space for one of their own, but the township of Willow Creek had several of them scattered around the different neighbourhoods. Mortimer knew the neighbours would keep an eye on him, and he appreciated it. Especially when his latest book was a week late.

It could’ve been worse, he was sure, but as of now, he couldn’t think of how. He focused on writing, spreading his notes and papers all over the dining room. He knew what he was supposed to be doing with the story, but unfortunately, _getting_ the story where it was supposed to be was proving to be a mild headache. It made more sense for his characters to want to do something else, which his editors likely would not be fond of.

It would be nice if he had as much power over his works as he liked to pretend he did. Unfortunately, he didn’t, and his editors had more say over how his books turned out than he’d like. It was all about marketability, or so they always said. He knew it was horse manure, but whatever made them feel better about it.

He was so caught up in his work that he didn’t hear Cassandra finally come down the stairs. She took one look at the papers strewn around the dining room, and decided that navigating them without tearing any was going to be more of a pain than she felt like dealing with at the moment. Instead, she stayed in the hallway, watching him. Eventually, she cleared her throat.

Mortimer looked up at the sound, and smiled. “Hey pumpkin,” he greeted. “You must be hungry. We ordered pizza last night, there’s still some leftover if you’d like.”

“Thanks daddy,” Cassandra replied. “I uh. I was hoping we could talk, but if you’re busy I can -“

“No, no,” Mortimer interrupted, gathering up all of his papers into a neat pile again. “I’ve always got time for you, come on, sit. What’s on your mind?” Most likely, there were a lot of things on her mind, and Mortimer knew that. It was okay though. She could be a little lost for a bit, he could be patient and explain things if she needed, answer questions, or they could talk about something completely unrelated. It was all up to her.

Cassandra settled down in a chair, looking a bit uncertain, but eventually she breathed in. “I asked mom about everything breaking,” she said.

Mortimer nodded. He looked unsurprised, so Cassandra assumed Bella had mentioned it to him.

“Was she serious?” Cassandra asked. “She said we’re spellcasters.” Sometimes Cassandra believed her, and other times she wasn’t sure what she believed.

Mortimer had a feeling this was coming, so he tilted his head to the side a bit. “She was,” he answered. “We are spellcasters, yes.”

“Oh wow.” That seemed to be the only thing she could _think_ at this revelation.

“I know it seems like a lot,” Mortimer said. “But you come from not one, or two, or even three, but four very powerful spellcaster bloodlines. My mother, your grandmother Cornelia, was a Crumplebottom. Most of her relatives are spellcasters, they’re known for discovering and researching magical plants and which animals can be bonded as familiars. The Goth family helped found Magic Realm, just as the Crowleys did, your mother’s side has Crowley blood. Finally, your mother’s also a Bachelor, and the Bachelor family are known for their alchemical advancements. The Goths refined untamed magic, and the Crowleys refined practical magic.”

“There are different kinds of magic?” Cassandra asked, choosing to focus on something that was a little less mind-boggling.

“Yes,” Mortimer said, nodding. “There’s untamed, practical, mischief, and alchemy. Alchemy deals exclusively in potions and tonics, not spells, so it’s a little more of a hands-on deal. Your mother’s very good at alchemy, no one makes a potion better than she does. I take after the Goth side of the family, and I’m working toward mastering untamed magic.”

That was a number of branches. What was the difference…? No, that was a silly question, wasn’t it? It was obvious if you paid attention to the names. Alchemy was all potions and such, so most likely, mischief magic caused effects that weren’t really intended to cause harm, just stir up some trouble. Then, practical probably did things like repair objects and clean things. So what was untamed? “What’s untamed magic do?” Cassandra asked.

“Starts fires and calls down lightning,” Mortimer answered. “It’s the branch to master if you intend to become a skilled duellist. All the best magical battlers are untamed spellcasters.”

“There’s no reason for that, right?” Cassandra asked. “Battling other spellcasters, there’s no reason to do that, right?”

Mortimer’s lips flattened into a line. He wanted to abate her concerns. He wanted to tell her that it was okay not to know anything about battling other spellcasters, that she’d never have to defend herself against a fellow caster, but that simply wasn’t the case. “Things are complicated in Magic Realm, Cassandra,” Mortimer said, choosing his words carefully. “The Realm used to be peaceful and its people used to live in harmony, but there are darker things at play in the shadows now, the people have ulterior motives and secrets. It’s not hostile, but with the loss of the major magical lines in the Realm, it’s begun to fall apart and the spellcasters can’t decide how to fix it. Cassandra, as soon as you can, change your last name. Whatever last name you want, you don’t even have to take it through marriage, just change it.”

Cassandra considered this for a moment, and then tilted her head. “Why?” she asked.

Mortimer smiled at her, reaching across the table to pat her hands. “With any luck,” he answered, “you’ll never know.”


	7. Chapter 7

That morning, Cassandra had left the house, saying something about needing to spend some time looking at art to bring her head back out of depression. The girl struggled with it, Bella knew, had ever since her early teen years, and while it was unfortunate, she’d been learning decent coping mechanisms for dealing with it. Mostly she channelled her feelings into artwork and music, and Bella looked forward to what things she accomplished that way.

As it was, Bella took the opportunity to leave the house, too. And there was a special place she intended to go, somewhere she hadn’t been in a long time. Cassandra was learning about her heritage, and perhaps it was time Bella remembered hers.

A bright flash of light, and Bella appeared in front of magical headquarters. She hadn’t seen this place in so long. Her gaze drifted around; the bits and pieces of broken bridge and building weren’t new, but seemed to have progressed a good deal since her last visit. How long ago was that now? So long she’d forgotten just _how_ long, it’d seem. Bella breathed in, and smiled to herself. It was nice to be back, even if she had mixed feelings and butterflies over it.

Bella took another breath in, and headed into the building. Somewhere in there, she knew, were the three Sages, and perhaps it was time to drop in on them and say hello. Nothing had changed on the inside since last she was here. Perhaps there were a few extra bookshelves, but that wasn’t much of a difference at all.

As she turned a corner, she found herself face to face with Simeon Silversweater, the Sage of Practical Magic. “Oh! It’s nice to see you, Simeon,” she greeted, smiling brightly.

“Well I’ll be,” Simeon answered, smiling almost as brightly. “If it isn’t Miss Bella Bachelor.”

“Mrs. Goth now,” Bella corrected.

“Oh, yes, I remember, you married Mortimer,” Simeon said, thoughtfully. “How’s he doing these days?”

Bella smiled, one eyebrow arching upward in apparent amusement. “He’s not as young anymore,” she said, “but he likes to think he is. He’s been writing a lot of books these days, mostly short stories.”

“That’s good,” Simeon answered. “You’ve had kids I’m sure.”

“Two,” Bella replied. “A girl, Cassandra, and a boy Alexander. Alexander’s still a boy, but Cassandra’s nearly a young woman now.” It was hard to believe her little girl was almost all grown up. Maybe they could go lingerie shopping sometime soon. That was a wild thought. It wasn’t like Cassandra had shown a lot of interest in the other gender. Bella wondered if maybe she never would, or perhaps she liked her own gender. That was a possibility.

“I’m glad your life’s been going well, Bella,” Simeon said, distracting her from her thoughts.

Bella smiled again. Simeon was always very nice to her, but she had a feeling it was because she was a pretty lady, and that was it. Lots of male Sims she knew had a crush on her long before she married Mortimer. It was almost amazing nobody had gotten into a fight with Mortimer over it; unless they had and she’d missed it. Mortimer _was_ a fairly skilled duellist. Maybe the only one that could defeat him was –

“Bella?” another voice piped up. The mess of blond waves told her who it was easily enough, and she gave this one a smile, too.

“Morgyn, how nice to see you!” she exclaimed. Morgyn might _look_ mostly girly, but the blond wasn't really either one, and had known that even a long time ago.

Morgyn looked the same as always, albeit a bit more mature. There was still that strangely mischievous twinkle in those green eyes, that had been there even when they were kids. Though Morgyn's voice was different, and…

“Oh my gosh!” Bella said, gasping slightly. “Did you get the operations?”

“I did!” Morgyn answered, positively beaming. “I mostly match now.”

“I’m so happy for you!” Without much warning, Bella reached over and scooped Morgyn into a hug. Morgyn laughed brightly.

“I think you’re almost happier than I was,” he said.

“Nope,” Simeon answered, smirking wryly. “You were over the moon for at least three years straight. I had to listen to you giggling to yourself and mumbling about you’re not a girl anymore now for a few too many nights for me to accept _her_ excitement is stronger.”

Morgyn almost turned pink. “Thanks Simeon.”

“No problem,” Simeon answered. “Wouldn’t want you losing touch with reality there.”

Bella giggled. It was great to see them, for sure. “Where’s L.?”

“Ah, probably out in Glimmerbrook,” Simeon answered. “She got married.”

“Oh, did she?” Bella asked.

“Some twerp named Don Lothario,” Morgyn answered, sounding annoyed.

“Oh.” Everyone knew _that_ name. Why Katrina put up with him and his stunts, that one Bella never figured out, but on the other hand, she seemed to be sweet on him, and not just into him for his uh, assets.

“They had a baby, too,” Simeon said.

Bella couldn’t help the frown. Seemed Don’s ways weren’t changing anytime soon, though it was surprising Don had gotten _married_ , especially after having a baby. (Bella just _assumed_ the baby came before the marriage, that was pretty Don-like.) “Well, maybe I’ll catch her the next time I’m by,” she said. “If… of course, I _can_ come by again.”

“Of course!” Simeon said, almost at the exact same time as Morgyn.

“Absolutely,” Morgyn said, nodding.

“Any of the Goths are absolutely welcome any time,” Simeon said.

“My daughter’s aware of her heritage now,” Bella said. “She’ll be coming this way sooner or later, I suspect. Even if only to visit Caster’s Alley.” She certainly had all the training she’d need available to her in the form of her parents. No matter what it was she wanted to do, they could help her, though Mortimer had mostly mastered untamed magic, and wasn’t so great at the other two branches. If Cassandra wanted to master one of those, she might have to visit the Sages anyway.

“We’ll be looking forward to it,” Morgyn said. “Even if it _is_ only for Caster’s Alley.”

“I have no doubts,” Bella said. “Mortimer and I can probably teach her some things ourselves, but knowing our luck, she’ll want to specialise in practical magic or something.”

* * *

“I’m sure you’re not here just for a social call,” Simeon eventually said, handing Bella a glass of water. The three, Simeon, Bella, and Morgyn, had settled down in one of the libraries to catch up with one another. All of them had gone to school together, though Bella and Morgyn were notably more vain than Simeon was. Either that or he saw no practical use to youth potions, the world may never know.

“Of course,” Bella said, taking the glass gratefully. Simeon sat down, and Bella lightly tapped the glass rim. “You’re aware of Circe’s actions I presume?” she asked. Both Morgyn and Simeon nodded, though they glanced between one another in curiosity. Nobody had spoken of Circe since her banishment from Magic Realm, and it was strange someone felt the need to discuss her _now_.

Bella took a breath in. “Well, she’s been sighted in Forgotten Hollow. I don’t know what she intends to _do_ in Forgotten Hollow, but I can take a few guesses. Becoming the Sage of Untamed Magic was her life’s work, you both know that as well as I do. Unfortunately I think she’s gotten a bit overly ambitious, if you know what I mean. Vladislaus is one of the oldest vampires alive today and he runs Forgotten Hollow. I think she means to become a vampire.”

Simeon and Morgyn glanced at one another. “I’m not sure what we’re going to do with this information,” Simeon said.

“Give her another chance,” Bella replied.

“That sounds very dangerous,” Simeon answered.

“Vampire magic doesn’t have the same restrictions that spellcaster magic does,” Bella explained. “I know no one wants to think about it, but she could wreak serious havoc if left alone and Vladislaus decides to take her under his wing. We could have a vampire spellcaster war, and that’s the last thing anyone needs.”

“I’m not sure giving Circe her magic back will solve anything,” Simeon said. “And Morgyn is the new Sage of Untamed Magic. We won’t ask him to step down.”

“No, of course not,” Bella said. “I wouldn’t ask that either, I’m sure Morgyn’s doing a fine job. It’s just that now she’ll need something to do with herself. And I think perhaps giving her something to do with herself, rather than letting her to her own devices, might be a safer option.”

Morgyn looked thoughtful for a moment, and then tilted his head. “If we give her her magic back,” the blond said, “she could theoretically become an assistant for the Sages. I wouldn’t mind having one of those around.”

“An assistant?” Simeon asked, looking at Morgyn incredulously.

“Sure,” Morgyn said. “Headquarters don’t clean themselves you know, and there are always young spellcasters around to teach magic to. She’d be a Sage in all but name, and a little more mobile than we are.”

Simeon looked less than thrilled with the idea. “I wouldn’t want to do anything without L. around,” he said.

“Okay, well, I’ll go with it,” Morgyn said, “and if anything goes wrong I guess it’s my problem.”

“This is the only problem with you,” Simeon said, looking annoyed. “Always doing whatever you want.”

“Hey, I never said I wasn’t suited to my magic branch.” There was a reason untamed magic was the one Morgyn had gone for, and nobody could say it wasn’t fitting. Morgyn was probably the wildest and least behaved of the Sages. L. mostly kept up with the blond, but certainly didn’t manage to be wilder.

“Unfortunately,” Simeon said, tone drawling. “We’re supposed to come to these sorts of decisions as a collective whole, you know. It isn’t Morgyn the One-Man Sage Team, it’s the Sages, plural. Count them, one two three, there are three of them, and _you’re only one_!”

Bella tried not to laugh. They still bickered like siblings. At least that much hadn’t changed any.

Morgyn's eyes rolled, the blond making hand motions that indicated Simeon’s rambling was going in one ear and out the other. All Morgyn heard was blah blah blabbity blah… besides, if one wanted to get technical about it, this sounded like Bella was asking them for a _favour_. Bella _never_ asked them for a favour, and Morgyn was perhaps a little too enthusiastic about seeing it handled.

Whatever Bella Goth wanted, she tended to get, as it happened, and in Magic Realm, it wasn’t much different. But of course, Bella was also a member of the Five Families. Goth, Crowley, Bachelor, Crumplebottom, and Alistair all had a hand in shaping and founding Magic Realm. None of them lived now. Bella was rumoured to have, besides her Bachelor blood, Crowley blood from her mother Jocasta, but it was hard to say for sure. The Crowleys had been destroyed some time ago. By Circe, if Morgyn remembered correctly.

Morgyn was curious enough to go along with it. Simeon may not like it, but Bella had a point. Circe was dangerous, and Circe with vampire mind control powers was likely to become even worse. Some spellcasters were quite dangerous to vampires, such as Mortimer Goth and Morgyn, but those that were dangerous to vampires were dwindling in number, and soon there’d be none of them left to protect the ones that weren’t.

“I’m more interested in what she’s doing,” Morgyn said, eventually. “Vladislaus is notoriously difficult to get along with.”

“If I recall,” Simeon said, “so is Circe.”

Bella shook her head. “Not exactly,” she said. “Circe’s easy enough to get along with if you have something she wants. But I guess that’s the hard part.” Having something Circe wanted was a mystical art long lost to time, almost. “I wouldn’t know about Straud,” Bella said. “What I know about vampires is pretty slim, and Vladislaus even more so.”

“I can’t say I’m terribly familiar with them either,” Morgyn said, tapping a leg in thought. “They stay away from us, and we tend to stay away from them, that’s all I know.” Truthfully, that was all the blond _had_ to know. The rest was unnecessary detailing.

“In any case, Circe knows enough to be dangerous to Magic Realm,” Bella said. “That’s the only reason I’m asking this, so don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

“I had no doubts,” Morgyn replied.

“Neither did I,” Simeon said.

“Good,” Bella said. “I’ll volunteer for the task of locating her. I’ll let you know how it goes later. In the meantime, take care of yourselves.” Bella would suggest a ward or two, but the Magic Realm had plenty.

As she stood and moved to leave, Morgyn caught her hand. The blond gave her a pointed look. “You need to be careful, too.”

“Don’t be silly,” Bella answered, laughing lightly. “I always am.”

Sometimes, not enough.

* * *

That evening, Bella had an extra spring to her step. She was as cheerful as could be, flouncing around the house, and come bed time, she twirled into the bedroom and happily fell into the seat at her vanity to start taking her jewellery out and putting them all back where they belonged. Mortimer was on the sofa by the windows, looking over something. He glanced up when she came in, and looked mildly perplexed at her happily humming over there.

“You seem to be in a good mood,” he commented, his pen in his teeth as he rifled through some papers.

Bella smiled. “I am,” she answered. “I went to visit Magic Realm today.” And she’d had quite an interesting conversation with a couple of the Sages. It was unfortunate L. wasn’t there, but she was sure there’d be time to catch up with L. later.

“Did you?” Mortimer asked, one eyebrow raising in surprise. “I figured you wouldn’t go back there.” So far, none of them had. Bella had lost her family in the fight when the Bachelors and Goths left Magic Realm. But they were the only two of the original five families left. (No one knew where aunt Agnes was. She may still be alive, but she was certainly childless and certainly barren.)

“Cassandra and Alexander might visit there someday, and I was curious how things were going,” Bella explained.

“So how were they?” Mortimer asked. She’d already gone, and he could admit some curiosity himself.

“Falling apart,” Bella said, sighing, “as usual. Morgyn was made Sage of Untamed Magic after Circe, apparently.”

Mortimer grunted. “He’s probably a better choice.” Morgyn always was a very good spellcaster, Mortimer had to give him that. He’d been good enough to almost keep up with Mortimer, but he was getting too old to think about becoming a sage of all things. That was for those more spritely spellcasters to manage.

“Oh, Morgyn had surgery, and is now physically somewhere in the middle, too.”

“That’s good then,” Mortimer answered. Morgyn had been born female, but insisted he wasn't really either from early teenhood. Mortimer never had a reason to doubt the idea. Surely Morgyn knew better than Mortimer did. “How are Simeon and L.?”

“L. got married,” Bella said. “I hear, to one Don Lothario.” Bella made a face.

Mortimer almost matched that expression, his eyebrows drawing together, one side of his nose raising. “Ew.”

“I did not say it, but I was definitely thinking it.” Sure, Don Lothario was physically attractive, always had been. Nobody could deny that much, but on the flip side, Don was also a player and certainly wasn’t going to be held down by no marriage thing. He was good if you were looking for a good time and that was it, but nothing else. What was interesting was L. had apparently managed to get him to marry her. Bella had to wonder if that had… magical assistance. “Simeon’s the same as always,” Bella went on. “A little chubbier than I remember, though.”

“It figures he’d gain weight,” Mortimer said. “There isn’t much to do around Magic HQ but read and charm the brooms into dancing.”

“I’ve never seen anyone charm brooms into dancing,” Bella said, laughing a little.

“Really?” Mortimer asked. “It’s amusing, you should try it out sometime. My friend Mark and I used to make the brooms at HQ do the dance of the sugar plum fairy. Nice magical practice, too.” Mortimer stacked his papers back together, marked his place in his book, and set it on the table.

“That’s an exciting adventure I was unaware you’d ever had,” Bella said, dropping the last bit of her jewellery into the jewellery box and closing it. Mortimer stood up and stretched out, sitting down on his side of the bed.

“Sure, I’ve gotten into a lot of adventures you were unaware of,” he said, settling down. “I fell out of a tree when I was nine, and busted my jaw.” That was why it was a little oddly shaped.

“Oh,” Bella said, tilting her head a little at him. “Huh. Anyway, I went to see if I could negotiate with the sages.”

“Negotiate what?” Mortimer asked. That was odd, he didn’t think there was anything _to_ negotiate.

“I asked them to give Circe her magic back,” Bella answered, “and give her another chance at HQ. I’m going to go find her in Forgotten Hollow later and let her know.”

“ _What_?” Mortimer asked, sitting up in alarm. “Bella, that’s a crazy idea.” She couldn’t be serious!

“I just think if she had another chance to prove herself,” Bella argued, “she’d rise to the occasion instead of falling to whatever depravity Straud has in mind. Vampire magic doesn’t have the same restrictions. And becoming a Sage was Circe’s life ambition! Maybe it all just got to her head.”

Mortimer almost couldn’t believe what he was hearing, but then, this _was_ Bella. He shook his head a little. “Bella, honestly.” He didn’t even know what to say. “This is why I love you, it really it is, you always see the best in people. As much as it pains me to say it, though, she almost _killed you_.”

Bella frowned slightly, standing and reaching out to pat his cheek. “But she _didn’t_ , Mortimer,” Bella whispered. “There’s good in her somewhere, I know it!” There had to be. “I know it is.”

Mortimer loosed a sigh, reaching up to take his wife’s hand, kissing her palm. “I know you believe that, more than anything. But Bella, that good in her needs to be outside of her, too.”

Though sadness crept into her brown eyes, Bella knew he was right. Her gaze fell to their hands. He hadn’t let hers go, and she wasn’t upset about that in the least. She liked being close to Mortimer. “You’re right,” she admitted. “But it will never have the opportunity to _be_ outside of her if no one gives her a chance.”

“We _gave her_ chances, Bella,” Mortimer argued. “She destroyed the Crowleys, went hunting the Alistairs down like animals, and the Charms too, if I recall. It’s a little bit too late for chances, my love.”

Bella shook her head. “I refuse to give up. I know you don’t like this, I’m sorry, but somewhere in there, she’s still my friend.”

“No, she isn’t!” Mortimer’s voice raised slightly. He took a moment, closed his eyes, and breathed out slowly. He was getting a little frantic about this, and losing control of his emotions wouldn’t lend well to communicating effectively, he knew this.

“Bella,” he started again, “please think about this a little more. If she turns against you, then what? You can’t defeat her by yourself, and you probably don’t have the heart to fight her anyway. Tell you what, let me come with you. Please.”

“You don’t have -“

Mortimer shook his head. “Yes, I do. I can’t lose you.”

“Oh Mortimer,” Bella whispered, sighing. “You won’t.”

“You don’t know that,” he said. “I wish it was that simple, but it isn’t, and I can’t take the chance.”

“You’re so busy already with the publisher anyway, and -“

“I’m never too busy for you, flower,” Mortimer said. “You and the kids, Bella, you’re all that matters to me in this life. I can’t lose you.” He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t face a world Bella wasn’t in. He wanted to think that, if he did lose Bella, he’d still be there for the kids, but while he may not do anything _unspeakably stupid_ , he would likely never be the same. Inevitably, some of the weight would be put on Cassandra’s shoulders, and it wasn’t her weight to bear.

“Okay,” Bella finally conceded. “I’ll wait for you, and we’ll go together.”

“That’s all I can ask.” He could ask her not to go, sure, but he knew that she wouldn’t ever give up. And it was that insistence that everyone had good in them somewhere that made her such a vibrant light.


	8. Chapter 8

In a much better mood today, Cassandra bounced down the stairs, humming a tune under her breath. It’d taken some adjustment to the idea of being a _spellcaster_ , but ultimately the fascination had won over the confusion and the fear of the unknown. It was somewhat exciting. There was something interesting about her, and while maybe it wasn’t _unique_ , she didn’t know any other spellcasters. Maybe she could turn out to be a decent one, if she worked on it. It was something she could work towards, a goal she could have, and that in and of itself was somewhat motivating on its own. Cassandra had never truly _wanted_ something.

“Good morning,” she sing-songed as she meandered into the kitchen. Her father was at the dining room table, as he often was. He was writing at the table, but that wasn’t new either. Cassandra grabbed a glass of orange juice and settled into a seat beside him.

“You’re in a good mood this morning, pumpkin,” Mortimer said, smiling softly.

“I am,” Cassandra said. “I’m not really sure why, but I’ve learnt not to question the good days.” She did have depression, and it could be rather crippling at times.

“Well, did you sleep well?” Mortimer asked.

“I guess I did,” she said. “I had a weird dream, though.”

“What about?” Mortimer set his pen down.

Cassandra wasn’t sure how to explain it. “There was this weird-coloured sky, and floating islands connected by bridges. Someone grabbed my hand and started tugging me somewhere, saying we were going to be late for… something.” Cassandra shrugged.

“It sounds like Magic Realm,” Mortimer said after a moment.

“It does?”

“Yes,” Mortimer answered. He stood up, moving to one of the cabinets and pulling the drawers open. Somewhere in it was – aha! With a triumphant sound at the back of his throat, Mortimer took the scroll to the dining room table and unrolled it over the glass for Cassandra to see. It was a painting of Magic Realm before the doom started to set in, the bridges still connected together, the floating islands larger in size and the buildings still in-tact.

“Oh, that’s pretty,” Cassandra said. “But yeah, that’s kind of what it looked like.” She’d never been there, presumably, so it was strange she’d had a dream about it.

“Magic Realm was founded by the Five Families,” Mortimer explained, sitting back down in his seat. “These five were Goth, Crowley, Bachelor, Crumplebottom, and Alistair. You have blood from three, perhaps four, of the five.”

“That’s a lot,” Cassandra murmured. “What was Magic Realm made for? Just somewhere cool?”

“No,” Mortimer replied, shaking his head. “Magic was once more widely accepted in Simadonia. During the middle ages, the Watcher religions began to gain more of a grip on the populace, and the people began to turn to the Jacoban and Peteran rites instead of magic. Eventually, they lost their trust in magic, and began to persecute spellcasters. Ravenna Goth and her close friends decided to establish a magical parallel world that only spellcasters could reach as a safe-haven for young spellcasters to learn and practise magic without fear of persecution. In time, though, the five families died out, and some left Magic Realm. The Crowleys were the last ones still in Magic Realm and they were … they died out. And now, with none of the original five families still having strong presence in the Realm, it’s begun to fall apart. Eventually, it won’t exist anymore at all.”

That was _terrible_! Cassandra frowned. If Magic Realm was where young spellcasters went to learn, that was so much knowledge and history that they stood to lose! Cassandra had no idea what _she_ could do about it, though. “Can the Realm be saved or repaired?” she asked.

Mortimer thought about that for a moment, his gaze moving to the ceiling. “Perhaps,” he said. “But it’d take a very powerful spellcaster to be able to do it alone. Most likely, it’d require several different spellcasters. Perhaps all four of us could make a dent in it.”

Cassandra thought about that for a moment. By the time Alexander had enough magical experience, though, it was more likely that their father would be gone. It was most likely going to end up being her and Alexander’s problem, and not something that their parents could truly help with. It was unfortunate, but that was reality all the same. She wondered if someday she’d end up helping to save it. That seemed like a lofty enough goal, but it’d certainly be something of an adventure. She’d have to get much better at magic than she was, to be sure.

“Don’t worry about it too much just yet,” Mortimer said, patting Cassandra’s hand. He’d seen that look and knew she was likely overthinking a little. “Magic Realm’s been standing for centuries, I think it’ll take a little more than this to truly destroy it.”

“It’s just kind of sad that we stand to lose so much history,” Cassandra said. “And the future generations of spellcasters deserve somewhere to learn in peace the same as the former generations did. What if things change and we end up with tension between spellcasters and human Sims again?” Where would they all go without Magic Realm?

Mortimer laughed quietly. “You’re more of an altruistic pioneer than you like to pretend, Cassie,” he said. “Someday, you’ll do great things I’m sure. But in the meantime, try to put it out of your mind for now. You’re still a dormant caster, anyway.” Only the Sages could unlock her true potential. Mortimer had never learned to, and if he remembered correctly, neither had Bella. Cassandra was still in high school, even, there were more important things to do than worry about Magic Realm and whether it was going to fall apart for good tomorrow, or whether the witch hunts were going to start up again.

“Will I become not dormant eventually?” Cassandra asked.

“Someday,” Mortimer replied. “But for now, you should likely just focus on graduating.”

* * *

Greg had managed to locate which house was Circe’s. Bella was grateful for the assist, because she unfortunately didn’t have the time, nor the inclination, to go knocking on random doors in Forgotten Hollow until she found the right one. That seemed like it’d probably be a bad idea all around, even though it was _somewhat_ tempting.

She wondered if Circe would be happy to see her. If maybe they’d be able to become friends again. It wasn’t as if Bella didn’t still care about her, and surely Circe felt the same. Mortimer was just worried about nothing, that was what she figured. Mortimer was allowed to worry about strange things, she supposed. It wasn’t like Bella was known for being careful. If she was a little less intelligent, she probably would’ve died by now, but you don’t go through working for the fashion industry, cutthroat as it was, without picking up a thing or two.

Bella had already lost so many friends. Between the spellcaster wars, the fall of Magic Realm that was still ongoing, and the passage of time, it was difficult to keep friends for long. She and Circe had been friends since they were children, and Bella wanted that back. Was that so wrong?

She sighed to herself, currently relaxing in one of the lounge chairs in the living room. The fire crackled cheerily in the fireplace, a bright cyan aqua colour. This was, of course, a magical fireplace, and didn’t quite burn orange. The cup of chamomile tea in her hands shook slightly as she impatiently tapped the side of the cup.

She just wanted things _right_ again, and she didn’t think that was asking for too much.

The front door opened and closed. She could smell his cologne before she saw him, but that was Mortimer home from work. For once, he was somewhat early. Bella smiled to herself, and he set his jacket in the hallway, then came into the living room, kissing her on the cheek and settling down in the chair opposite hers. “How was your day?” he asked.

“It was okay,” Bella answered. “Pretty good, actually. How was yours?”

“I’ve certainly had better days,” Mortimer answered with a slight grunt. “Everyone seemed to want to talk in circles, and I’ve long decided I’m over talking in circles.” Generally speaking, it was difficult to get anywhere when no one would move on from a certain point. Publishing was a difficult thing; not many Sims bought many books anymore, and it was tough to predict how the market would behave. That unfortunately led to discussions that went in circles with corporate bigwigs that didn’t understand the people the market represented very well, and plenty of lower-tier workers, Mortimer included, had to get into a fight or two with them.

And in the end, the corporate bigwigs would do whatever it was they wanted to do, no matter what any of their workers said. What was even the point, Mortimer wondered more than once.

“Certainly not talking in circles is more productive,” Bella said. He often had to have long discussions with people too high up the ladder to understand how the world worked anymore. It was a grating thing, but also very understandable. People tended to forget what it was like to be at the bottom of the proverbial corporate food-chain, perhaps very easily, but then, no one remained at the bottom very long in Simadonia. Provided one put in some measure of effort, they could be about mid-tier within a week or so.

“You’re probably right about that,” Mortimer said, sighing. “Is there any tea left?” he asked.

“Yes, actually,” Bella replied, standing up and heading into the kitchen. “At least three or four cups I think.”

“I’ll have some I think,” Mortimer said. Chamomile tea wasn’t his deal, that was more Bella’s, but she was right in that it was calming, and it did have a strange way of making one happy for no real reason. Mortimer could use a shot of liquid sunshine about now.

“Oh, I finally found Circe,” Bella said, raising her voice a little to be heard from the kitchen.

Mortimer had _almost_ hoped she’d forgotten, but then he supposed things wouldn’t be that easy. “I see,” he answered. “When are you going?” There was no sense in pretending she wasn’t going or could be persuaded to change her mind. She’d already decided.

“When’s your next day off?” Bella asked.

“Tomorrow,” Mortimer replied.

“Then I’m going tomorrow.”

Of course. Why wouldn’t she be going tomorrow? She was in quite a hurry, but this shouldn’t be surprising he supposed. “Alright,” he said.

Bella returned there, handing Mortimer one of the cups in her hand. Chamomile tea always smelled good to him. “It’ll be quick,” Bella said. “We just give her the good news and she’ll have to figure out the rest on her own. I can’t do _everything_ , but, hopefully she takes the opportunity.” Bella thought it was a good one for sure, and it wasn’t every day that one like that came along.

Mortimer had his reservations about what Circe would do and how she’d react to the news, but he didn’t say that. Something told him, though, that Circe was the type of Sim that would prefer _not_ to have any restrictions. Vampire magic was mostly mind-based. It was all about manipulating Sims, and had some fairly powerful effects, a few of which spellcasters could also do with magic. Vampires couldn’t command lightning, but they could command those that could. Mind-based magic was harder to fight off once it’d gotten its claws in you, and Mortimer wasn’t looking forward to having to fight with Circe. He supposed it depended mostly on how much Circe had learnt from Vladislaus Straud.

With any luck, she hadn’t learnt much at all.

“Ah,” Mortimer said, thinking of something unrelated to Circe to say, “Cassandra and I talked about Magic Realm. She seemed fairly interested in it.”

“Does she?” Bella asked. “That’s good. I was afraid she’d never want to know anything about it, given how abruptly I dropped it in her lap.”

Mortimer shrugged, taking a drink of his tea, and setting the cup down on the coffee table. “I suspected she’d be able to handle it sooner or later,” he said.

“Is that an I told you so?” Bella asked, one side of her lips quirking up, an eyebrow raising in amusement.

“Maybe,” Mortimer said, smirking right back. “She’s doing well for someone that’s been told her parents have been keeping some important things from her. It’s just fortunate none of the other spellcaster lines decided to tell her before we could.”

Bella frowned slightly. “I don’t think any of them would,” she said.

Mortimer sighed. “We’re the last of the five, Bella,” he said. “And you’d be surprised what some Sims will do for power.” Ruining a teenage girl’s life was actually not very far down the list of those things.

* * *

“Well, this is it,” Bella said, looking at the small house. It wasn’t even _truly_ small; mostly, it’d been built upward, almost like it wanted to be a townhouse instead of a proper home. Bella tilted her head at it, eyeing the thorny vines that crawled up the sides of the brick facade. It was… quaint.

“I hate vampires,” Mortimer was grumbling, looking at the dead trees in the yard and barren wisps of what _should_ have been bushes, most likely. “Waste of good lawns.”

Bella snorted in amusement. Trust Mortimer to focus on something so off the wall. The lawn? Who really cared about the lawn? Clearly Mortimer did. He did have a notable appreciation for well-cared-for lawns and such. She shouldn’t be surprised, it was just very easy to forget.

“She probably won’t come out on her own,” Bella said. The sun was still out, and vampires, as most everyone knew, disliked the sun. She took a breath in, and wandered up to the door, ringing the door bell. At first, there wasn’t any sound in response, and Bella was concerned she may have missed her. Greg had said she was here this morning, so Bella was sure she was still here. Ah, despite the sun being up, it _was_ cloudy here. That was why Forgotten Hollow was where it was; the weather was perfect. Vampires couldn’t feel temperatures, but the constant cloud cover meant going outside during the day was more often than not a possibility for vampires, even fledglings.

Mortimer watched the door with bated breath, hoping against hope that Circe never answered. Of course, it would only delay the inevitable. Bella would insist on trying again later. It was unfortunate, but also a reality, and Mortimer knew that as well as anyone else that knew anything about her.

Then, there was a metallic clicking sound, and the door opened.

Circe didn’t look any different. Her brown hair was streaking grey in a few places, brown eyes narrowed, nose scrunched up. Bella almost took a step backwards. Mortimer moved closer, coming to stand just behind his wife.

“Well, well, _well_ …” Circe said, her lips, currently coated in purple lipstick, quirking upward at one side. “If it isn’t the _Goths_. And what, pray tell, are you doing around _here_? You weren’t looking for little ol’me, were you?”

Bella swallowed, and then nodded. “Yes,” she said. “I… it took a lot of work to find you. I wanted to see how you’re doing and, I have good news for you.”

“I’m not interested in talking to _you_ ,” Circe answered, her tone suddenly half snarl. Bella remembered, right then, that Circe could be rather intimidating when she wanted to be, and her temperament was erratic, to say the least. “ _You’re_ the reason I ended up out here in the first place, eking out a living around all these _dead_ things, and, oh, nowadays _I’m_ a dead thing.”

“I had nothing to do with it,” Bella replied, frowning. “I didn’t tell Cornelia to do what she did. If she’d asked me, I would’ve told her -“

“Not to?” Circe finished, scoffing. “Of course. The glamourous and perfect Bella Goth _certainly_ wouldn’t betray her best friend for a Sage position.”

“I – a what?” Bella asked, confused. “I was never offered one.”

“You don’t _have_ to be _offered_ a Sage position to _get one_ , Bella, I should know.” And of course, Circe Toledo hadn’t gotten herself into the position of Sage of Untamed Magic on _accident_. No one needed to know _that_ little detail, but there was a reason no one had any idea where Aine had gone. That secret would die with Circe, whenever that was.

“I would never -“

“Gods, save it,” Circe answered, her head moving to the side and then back in annoyance. “I have little interest in what you have to say. I doubt this news of yours will be particularly interesting either.”

“I think you want to hear about it, Circe,” Mortimer said. Circe’s attitude was starting to distress Bella, and he wanted it all over with as soon as was humanly possible.

“Still doubt it,” Circe answered, glancing at her nails. “But if you insist on wasting my time, fine. What?”

Bella glanced at Mortimer. Mortimer, just slightly, nodded. “I spoke to the Sages,” Bella said. “They’re willing to fix this undead problem, and return your magic. If you prove yourself to them as an assistant, you could take your place as a Sage back.” Well, none of the Sages had _outright said_ that, but Bella thought a little extra embellishment to sweeten the deal wasn’t so bad.

“Really?” Circe asked. She sounded incredulous, and then after, began laughing. How dare she? “How _dare you_ ,” Circe growled after a moment, her eyes alighting with rage. “I don’t _need your help_! I never did! _You_ needed _me_!” Circe raised her hand, releasing a wave of mind energy. Bella and Mortimer hardly saw it coming. Mortimer dove towards Bella, but was too late, and the blast crashed into and threw both of them off the porch and into the street.

“I didn’t think you did,” Bella said, wincing and sitting up on the asphalt, “I just wanted to -“

“Wanted to _what_?” Circe interjected. “Make me _owe you_? Did you want to be _friends_ again? Did you think you could charm your way back into my good graces and go back to treating me like your personal lackey? Not anymore!” Circe raised her hand, firing another blast of mind energy. This time, Mortimer saw it coming, and fired a blast of magic in response. Bella scrambled behind the barrier he created.

“Circe, stop this!” Bella cried. How had it turned out this way? She’d only been trying to help, but it seemed like every time she did, things turned out like this. She should stop trying to help, that was sure.

“Why?” Circe asked, her voice almost hysterical. Mortimer didn’t go onto the offensive, instead waiting. A moment later, that turned out to be smart, as Circe attempted to use one of her mind control abilities, only for it to fizzle out against the ward Mortimer cast at the last second. “This is the most fun I’ve had in years!”

Mortimer glanced at Bella. She looked at him. They needed to remove themselves from this situation before one or the other of them wore down too far, and Circe managed to use her mind control, and turn them on one another. Unfortunately, Mortimer had no bright ideas just yet, and apparently neither did Bella.

Circe fired again. Mortimer blocked and fired back. Bella moved to the side, attempting to catch Circe off-guard with a potion, but at the last second Circe fired at the bottle, and then at Bella. Mortimer barely managed to stop the magic before it reached Bella, and fired a blast of flame. Even as a vampire, Circe was almost evenly matched with him, and it was unfortunate. Logical, given _she_ used to be the best duellist among the spellcasters, and that kind of knowledge never truly went away.

Unleashing an unearthly sound of annoyance, Circe drew back and fired a wave of a strange colour Mortimer had never seen vampires use before. Despite raising a shield, the wave of vibrant indigo went right through the shield. At first, it tingled, and then Mortimer was gone.

A startled noise escaped Bella’s throat, but she could only stare, only _stare_ at where he used to be, because it didn’t make any sense. “What…”

Circe cackled in delight. “He’s gone, he’s _gone_ , gone forever,” she sing-songed. “The Goths took away what I treasured most. And now you’ve lost what _you_ treasured most. Understand this is only the beginning, Bella. I will not stop until every last Goth in the line pays. This is just the beginning. Gone, he’s gone!”

Circe’s words, and the cackling laughter, were almost lost on Bella. She couldn’t stop staring, the pain and confusion evident in her eyes. He was gone. Because of her. If Bella just hadn’t been so stubborn, he’d still be here. The twisting in her chest tightened, and she released a sudden breath, and when she drew air in again, her throat tightened and squeaked, and the tears rushed out seconds later. “What did you do?” she whispered. Circe hardly noticed over the sound of her own peels of laughter.

“What did you _do_?!” Bella shouted, lunging at Circe without a second thought, hands aimed at her throat. Circe smirked and waved a hand, easily sending Bella flying to one side. She almost bounced across the asphalt this time. She was so like a slinky, Circe decided.

“I won’t tell you that,” Circe replied. “Let’s see if little miss perfect can figure it out, if you want him back so badly.” Circe loosed another snorting giggle, and turned back toward her house, leaving Bella in the street.

It was music to Circe’s ears, as the sound of the birds chirping and the wind rustling the trees was joined by a heartbroken shriek, a blend of tears and pain, shattering the eerie peace of Forgotten Hollow.

Today, Circe Toledo won.


	9. Chapter 9

By the time Cassandra had gotten home, their parents were both gone. Her mother had just gotten a promotion and had started working fairly late, so she wasn’t terribly concerned. Alexander got home at the same time, so Cassandra could watch him in the interim. Generally her kid brother didn’t require a lot of watching, anyway. He tended to just do his homework, and then spend the rest of the evening playing with his few toys or reading a book.

It was eerie how quiet it could get in the house. Sometimes Cassandra found it comforting, but most of the time it was just a little unnerving. She settled down at the dining room table to do her homework. Alexander did his a lot quicker than Cassandra did and was done with it in half the time, then scrambled off to presumably go play with his toys. Cassandra smiled softly at his retreating back, and shifted in her seat to get a little more comfortable. Homework wasn’t _difficult_ to her, but she could certainly use some kind of assist with it. Alexander wasn’t at the point where she could ask him for help, and likely by the time he was in high school, she’d be graduated already. On the bright side, if _he_ needed help, she could do that. It wasn’t likely that he’d need it, because he was smarter than her.

By the time the sun had set, Cassandra had started to get worried. Alexander didn’t seem to be thinking about it too hard, and was still playing wherever he’d gone, but their parents normally weren’t so late. Maybe they’d gone out on a date? But why would a date take so long? Didn’t people normally only go on a date for a few hours? Cassandra paused writing in her journal, glancing at the clock in the living room. They’d been gone since she and Alexander had returned from school, but she wasn’t sure how long they’d been gone before then. That by itself was five hours.

Cassandra sighed, putting the little book with the owl embossed on the cover back where she kept it, and headed into the kitchen to make dinner. It was getting a bit late, and Alexander would likely get hungry soon.

She’d make something simple. At the moment, Cassandra wasn’t terribly interested in spending too long in the kitchen. And after, perhaps she’d go up for a bath. That sounded nice. As she walked into the kitchen, she heard what sounded like whispering. At first, Cassandra ignored it, but it got louder and more insistent. It almost sounded like… there were times Cassandra wondered if she was slowly losing her marbles. This was one of those times.

It sounded almost like her father, but she couldn’t make out what he was saying.

The front door opened and closed. The whispering instantly stopped, and Cassandra decided to put it out of her mind. She turned away from the kitchen and instead headed towards the front door. Alexander must’ve been listening for it, too, because he came running down the stairs and bolted into Bella’s legs as she came in.

“Oh,” she said softly, sounding a bit surprised but mostly like she’d been crying. Cassandra frowned in concern. What had happened?

“Welcome home mom!” Alexander happily chirruped. “Where’ve you been? Where’s dad?”

Bella looked upset, but it carefully faded away after a moment. “Well sweetie,” she said, kneeling down in front of him. “Sometimes… people go away. And they don’t always come back when they do.” Her voice cracked, but somehow she held it together, and Cassandra only frowned deeper.

That was an indirect, half-hearted answer if Cassandra had ever heard one, but she wasn’t going to call her mother on it. Instead, she stayed quiet, watching Alexander deflate. Bella grimaced slightly, rubbing his arm.

“So, he’s never coming back?” Alexander asked in a small voice. He was so smart it was easy to forget that in the end, Alexander was still a little boy, but Cassandra remembered in that moment. She moved over to stand behind him, patting his hair.

“He may come back someday,” Bella answered. “But maybe not soon, no. It’s okay Alex. Remember him. As long as you remember him, keep him in your thoughts and your heart, he’ll never be gone, not really.”

Had he died? Cassandra wondered. Was that… she’d thought she was hearing things for sure in the kitchen earlier, but maybe that was… did ghosts exist? Cassandra had never honestly thought about it, finding it much easier not to. There was something comforting about the idea that death wasn’t the end of anything, and yet at the same time, it was terrifying. It was hard to imagine existing with the same troubles and concerns even after you died, but Cassandra also knew that some Sims probably never quite let go of their lives. It was understandable, if sad, a thing.

“Okay,” Alex said, nodding sadly. “Are you okay?”

Bella looked surprised by the question, but in thinking about it, Cassandra wasn’t sure why. It was Alexander’s nature, it seemed, to worry about his family before himself.

“Yeah,” Bella answered. “I’m – I’m fine. I’m just tired.”

Cassandra knew she was lying. Alexander probably also knew she was lying. And yet, neither of them called her on her bluff, as she stood back up, and headed up the stairs. It wasn’t difficult to imagine what for, and perhaps Cassandra would simply leave her to her grief, for now. Even though Cassandra should’ve known her parents truly did love one another, sometimes she’d still wondered, if briefly. She didn’t wonder anymore.

She’d get the truth out of Bella sooner or later, but for right now, maybe it’d be best to try and stick to as close to a normal routine as possible, to help Alexander work around it and keep living. Cassandra waited until she heard a door close upstairs, and then reached down, resting her hands on Alexander’s shoulders.

“I’ll make dinner,” she said, softly. It wasn’t to say it didn’t hurt. It wasn’t to say that Cassandra wasn’t upset, because she was. Right now, though, she didn’t have time to pay attention to the sting of hurt in her chest and the sadness that threatened to close her throat. Alexander needed her to stay upright for just a little bit longer.

“Okay,” Alexander answered.

“If you want to go upstairs, I’ll let you know when it’s done.” Cassandra let him go, and he didn’t say anything in response, just nodded sadly, and shuffled up the stairs after Bella.

* * *

The sun wasn’t even up yet. Cassandra wasn’t surprised she’d awakened so early, but it was still annoying. She’d had a difficult time getting to sleep in the first place. Bella had locked herself in her room and not come out the rest of last night, and Cassandra hadn’t bothered trying to get her out of her room. It’d likely take some time before she could come back out and face the world, and Cassandra was fairly certain she was allowed to take her time. Certainly, Cassandra wasn’t going to be rushing her.

It still stung. It hadn’t quite sunk in all the way, Cassandra thought, but she was trying to let it go. She wasn’t so sure what to think. The only thing that made sense to her was that her father had died, but Bella didn’t say that. She said that it was possible he may come back someday, so maybe he’d just left the house. Yet that didn’t really make any sense, because her parents were _smitten_ with each other, and she was mostly sure it wasn’t feigned.

She was confused, and hurt, and it would take some time to process those feelings and decide what to do with them, she was sure. In the meanwhile, breakfast wasn’t going to make itself, she was sure, so she got out of bed, and shuffled to the bathroom. It was so quiet… normally, by now, she’d be able to hear Alexander giggling in the dining room as their father told him some crazy story, Bella making tea, but it was like the life was gone.

It’d pass. Someday, this would pass, and life would go on again. It was too strong to give up, and maybe they were, too.

Alexander was already downstairs, sitting at the dining room table and looking upset. He was probably thinking of the same things Cassandra had been, that it was too quiet. Cassandra quietly sat down in the seat next to him, nudging him with her arm. “Hey kiddo,” she greeted softly.

“Morning Cass,” he answered.

“How’re you holding up?” Cassandra asked.

Alexander shrugged one shoulder lightly. “Alright, I think.”

“You gonna be okay in school today?”

Her brother went quiet for a moment, thinking, but then he nodded. “I think so,” he answered. “I thought maybe I should just try not to worry about it too much. Maybe it’s for bigger Sims. But he’s not coming back, is he?”

“I don’t know, kiddo,” Cassandra answered honestly. Until she figured out what had happened in the first place, it was difficult to say whether it was possible that he’d come back or not. She didn’t want to dash his hopes, but neither did she want to let him live with a false sense of it. Maybe some of her hesitance to say yes or no was partly for herself, too. She didn’t want to inadvertently hurt her _own_ feelings, either. It would be rather difficult to keep the household running and take care of Alexander where Bella couldn’t if she was _also_ a mess.

“It’s still probably better if I don’t worry about it,” Alexander said. “I hope he comes back, though. I miss him a lot.”

“I do too, kiddo,” Cassandra admitted. It wasn’t as if she thought she shouldn’t miss him. He was her father, of course she did. Alexander was likely the same, and she didn’t expect him not to miss his father. Things were going to be tough, but she thought they could make it. And maybe somewhere in the thinking they could make it, they would. “This won’t be easy,” she said. “But I think we can do it.”

“Yeah,” Alexander said, nodding. “I’ll wash the dishes so you can make breakfast, Cass.” With that, Alexander got up and went into the kitchen to start doing just that. Cassandra smiled softly as he scurried off, and then turned to look at the stairs. A moment of hesitation later, and she stood up, going up and stopping outside her parents’ room.

Quietly, she could hear the sniffles. It was understandable, but it was still painful to hear, made her heart twist a little in her chest. Imagining one parent without the other was always a tough thing, and Cassandra had preferred not to do it. It’d have been inevitable. Her father was a bit older than her mother, notably even, and would’ve passed on naturally long before she did.

Cassandra tapped lightly on the door. “Mom?” she called. “Alexander and I are making breakfast. You should come down and eat something.” Remembering to take care of herself might help her feel a little better.

The sniffling quieted down, but she could still hear the tears in Bella’s tone. “I’m fine,” she said. “I’ll be down later.”

Cassandra frowned a little. It was almost completely pointless to argue with her mother, and she knew that. Bella was one of the most stubborn people Cassandra knew. “Are you sure?” she asked. “I don’t want you to forget.” It was easy to when you were dealing with grief.

“I won’t,” Bella answered.

Cassandra decided not to call her on the obvious lie. Most likely, she’d just stay in bed all day. Cassandra wondered if she had to work today, but couldn’t honestly remember.

“I’ll leave leftovers in the refrigerator for you, then,” Cassandra decided. If her mother wouldn’t come down on her own just yet, then maybe simply making sure that there was breakfast available when she was ready was a good idea. And Cassandra hoped she came down after they went to school. She couldn’t, and _shouldn’t_ , hide through it all.

She lingered for a moment, but Bella didn’t respond, and Cassandra decided to retreat back down the stairs. She and Alexander didn’t have a lot of time to themselves before it would inevitably be time to go to school, and she didn’t want either of them to end up late. This had already shaken up their lives enough as it was, and Cassandra was determined not to let it do it any more than it had.

* * *

Alexander’s greeting when they returned home was much quieter than usual. He simply reached out, took Cassandra’s hand, squeezed it slightly, and then trudged into the house to start on his homework. Cassandra probably looked upset, for a moment, before she shook herself and headed into the house, too. She didn’t have the time to be upset. She had to do her homework, and then she’d have to start thinking about what to do for dinner, and then perhaps, if Alexander didn’t do it, there’d be dishes to wash. Alexander probably needed a bath today, too, so she’d have to make sure he got one.

All of these adult things were difficult for her to handle, but it could’ve been worse. The house was in relative order, at least, and it was mostly a matter of picking up where her parents had left off. Her heart still hurt, but working through it was turning out to be a decent way of handling it. Later, she was sure, she’d spend the time writing a song on violin, and maybe she’d name it after her father. Then again, perhaps she should wait on deciding that one, because it really depended on what had happened and why he wasn’t around anymore.

As Cassandra came in the front door, she took her shoes off and went into the kitchen. One hand pulled the refrigerator door open, to find that the leftovers she’d stored had yet to be touched. Cassandra frowned. Well, she’d probably gone to work, so maybe she ate at work. Cassandra went into the living room, intent on doing her homework, but found her mother’s work jacket on one of the chairs. Typically, Bella worked later than they stayed at school. Had she gone to work at all? Cassandra frowned deeper, and then rummaged around in her mother’s jacket pockets, finding her cell phone. There were over a dozen missed calls from her work, a few messages… this one looked like her supervisor, so Cassandra tapped the call back button and held the phone to her ear.

“It’s about time, Goth,” a voice answered after a few rings.

“Uh, hi this is Cassandra, er, Bella’s daughter,” she said, her tone almost making that a question. “She got sick this morning and has been sleeping all day.”

“Riiight,” the Sim on the other end said. “I suppose she’ll be in tomorrow?”

“She should be, yes,” Cassandra replied. And she was going to hope that her mother didn’t make her a liar.

“Good,” the voice answered. “She’s on a thin wire because she no-call no-showed today, so make sure she comes in tomorrow, or she stands to lose her job outright.”

“Okay,” Cassandra said. “I’ll let her know. Thank you.”

The Sim on the other end of the line just grunted in response, and promptly hung up. Cassandra turned off her mother’s phone. It was understandable that her work was upset about her skipping out on it today, but that was a little harsh, Cassandra thought. Well, adult Sims lived very different lives, she supposed. She sighed to herself, and then headed into the kitchen. If her mother wasn’t going to get herself some food, then Cassandra would just have to make sure she ate. They’d already lost one parent, for whatever reason, and Cassandra didn’t think they needed to lose the other to starvation.

While she was in there, Cassandra set the tea pot to making chamomile tea, her mother’s favourite. She hoped it helped Bella feel a little better. It wasn’t as bad as it seemed like, somehow. Or perhaps Cassandra had stopped truly feeling it. She wasn’t sure. All Cassandra knew was that she couldn’t afford to spend too much time waffling, because it seemed everyone else was waffling. _Someone_ had to get things done, instead, and apparently it was going to be her.

When the tea was done, Cassandra got a cup poured, and a plate of food, and went upstairs. She stopped outside the door, listening. It was very quiet, but she could occasionally hear her mother’s sniffles. She was awake, at least. Gently, Cassandra tried to open the door, only to find it locked. For a moment, she debated trying to get Bella to open the door for her, but she hadn’t done it last night, and something told Cassandra that she wouldn’t be in a more generous mood today.

So, instead, Cassandra settled down on the floor outside the door, setting the plate and the tea on the floor for a moment, and pulled one of her hair pins out of her hair. She was a bit rusty with these locks, but after several minutes of digging around in the keyhole of the door knob, she managed to finally pop the lock. The door came open, the hinges creaking notably.

“You haven’t eaten today,” Cassandra said, putting the hair pin back, and then picking up the plate and cup, and letting herself in. Her foot moved behind her to close to door.

“I’m fine,” Bella answered. “I’m not hungry.”

“Yes you are,” Cassandra answered. She hadn’t eaten in maybe over 24 hours by this point, and that wasn’t a good thing. She had to be _starving_ by now.

Bella didn’t argue, simply grumbled something unintelligble and buried her head under the covers. Cassandra sighed. Somehow, though, it was comforting to know that her mother didn’t _always_ have everything together. Cassandra set the plate and cup down on the dresser, and then marched over to the bed, pulling the covers off and rolling them around her arms. Bella curled up tighter into a ball, and Cassandra set the blanket in one of the chairs. Then, she reached over and bodily pulled her mother up into a sitting position, and handed her the plate of food.

“I also made chamomile tea,” she said, moving the cup from the dresser to the side table. “I know it hurts. I feel it too. I know you don’t know what to do now, but you can’t just stay in bed and refuse to do anything anymore. Alexander still needs you.” There was a short pause, and quieter, Cassandra added, “ _I_ still need you. Don’t make us lose you both.”

It was the first time Bella had ever heard Cassandra think about herself, and while it was surprising, it shouldn’t have been, in hindsight. Though she still didn’t want to face it, Bella sighed lightly, reaching over and taking the cup of tea, sipping at it lightly. Cassandra was right, though. And as much as she didn’t want to think about it, Mortimer wouldn’t have wanted this for her, either. It just _hurt_ , so much. She didn’t know what to do without him, how to face a world he wasn’t in. He’d always been her grounding, her rock, the voice of reason. They’d been together for so long that they were one tree and not two, and now without her other half, Bella wasn’t sure who she was.

“I’m sorry Cassie,” Bella said.

“Don’t be,” Cassandra answered. “Just get better.” Then, maybe everything would start to be right again.


	10. Chapter 10

Cassandra sat with Bella the entire time, making sure she ate. And when she was done, Cassie took the dishes downstairs to the sink, and came back up. Cassandra had her own set of questions about what had happened, and where her father went. Bella, she was sure, had neglected to mention a thing or two in order not to overwhelm Alexander, and Cassandra understood that. She was older, though. And she’d get answers if it was the last thing she did.

She settled back down in a seat nearby. Cassandra tried not to look too annoyed, or concerned. Neutrality here might serve her better. “I called your work,” she said. “They’re willing to forgive today, but you need to go tomorrow. They won’t forgive it twice.”

Bella looked a bit chastised. “You’re right.” Her gaze fell to the blankets. “I forgot, honestly.”

“I’m sure,” Cassandra said. “You shouldn’t forget twice. You can’t just give up.” Technically, she could. It didn’t make it a good idea.

Bella simply nodded mutely. Cassandra decided to let that particular subject go. Instead, she sighed slightly, and crossed her legs.

“You gave Alexander mostly a lie,” she said. It wasn’t accusatory, nor sound that way, just a statement.

Bella nodded. “He doesn’t need to know the details,” she said softly. “He’s too young to really understand.”

“But I’m not,” Cassandra said.

It seemed Bella got the hint. After a moment of watching Cassandra, Bella sighed, and pulled her knees up to wrap her arms around. “I suppose you’re not,” she said. “I’m sure Mor – … you know about the Sages and the Five Families by now.”

“I do,” Cassandra said, nodding.

“Circe Toledo,” Bella went on. “She was one of my closest childhood friends, but she was a little unstable even as a teenager. She was an ambitious sort. I probably should’ve been more concerned about just _how_ ambitious she would become later, but at the time, it seemed harmless. She wanted to become one of the three Sages. She’s always been a really good magic user, so it was entirely possible for her to become a Sage. Circe and Morgyn… they were always the best casters.”

Bella took a breath in, thinking. “She eventually became the Sage of Untamed Magic. It suited her fairly well, in the way she uses magic, in her personality, and I was happy for her, but then she started to change. And one day I didn’t know her anymore. She started saying things about how we shouldn’t be giving just anyone the ability to use magic, which we’ve been ascending anyone as a spellcaster that asked because Magic Realm is dying. Circe began to disagree with that, thought we should be preserving the old bloodlines instead. Two of the Five, the Goths and the Crowleys, disagreed with this idea. Circe later destroyed the Crowleys, but before she could get to the Goths, your grandmother Cornelia stripped her powers.” It was quite the battle, but no one had ever bested Cornelia in a duel before, and it wasn’t terribly surprising that Circe didn’t either.

“That wasn’t enough to deter her,” Bella went on. “Cornelia died, and Circe became a vampire. And now it seems like she’s intent on making every Goth in the line suffer for the slight. I don’t know what she did. One minute he was there, and the next he was gone, and I don’t know how to fix it.” Bella choked up, starting to cry again. Maybe she’d never be able to talk about this without crying.

Cassandra winced slightly, standing and sitting next to her mother. She reached over and pulled her mother into a hug, resting her head against Bella’s. “We’ll figure it out,” Cassandra said.

“I can’t,” Bella said, hiccuping. “I’m not a strong spellcaster. That was his thing, he was the powerful spellcaster. I can’t fight Circe, Cassandra. I can’t.”

Cassandra quietly rubbed her arm. Maybe she couldn’t. Maybe it wasn’t something Bella was capable of. Even if she theoretically had the power to do so, she was too heartbroken and maybe wouldn’t ever really feel any better. Maybe this was a pain that would never truly go away, and that kind of pain could easily make it difficult for her to face Circe.

But, maybe Cassandra could do it. Mortimer had said she had blood from probably four of the five families running in her veins. She’d be a powerful spellcaster, someday. And maybe she could figure out what Circe had done, and get her father back. Maybe.

Cassandra didn’t say anything. There was really nothing _to_ say. She couldn’t tell her mother it’d be alright. She didn’t know that for sure. It was hard to say how things would turn out in the end, and maybe that was just as well. It wasn’t like Bella would have any motivation to work towards anything aside from maybe continuing to live, because living was likely to be hard enough.

And so, instead, Cassandra ended up sitting with her mother, until she cried herself out, as there were always more tears to cry, and Cassandra didn’t want to leave when there was still more to let out. Things weren’t okay. They were far from okay, and maybe it’d take a long time before they were okay. Maybe that was going to be a long road, going to take some time, maybe more time than any of them really wanted to spend on it, but it was okay to take that time. In the end, it was worth spending that time on. It was worth working towards. Even if only because Cassandra didn’t think Mortimer would want them to be upset too long. Wouldn’t want them to get so wrapped up in the loss that they forgot to love one another before it was their time to go too.

Maybe she could fix it. Yes, maybe Bella couldn’t figure it out, didn’t have the will or the knowledge, but Cassandra didn’t know _anything_ , and had nothing but time on her hands. She could figure it out. Yes, someday, somehow, Cassandra would bring her father home.

* * *

It felt like it’d been longer. Cassandra sighed to herself, looking at her phone. It’d only been three days since Mortimer had gone away. Bella still wasn’t very good at remembering to eat and take showers; she’d tried multiple times since that first day to hide in her room and sleep instead of eating, but Cassandra had no trouble popping the lock and handing her food. Bella didn’t really _like_ it, but Cassandra wasn’t asking her to. She wasn’t asking much of anything these days, half bossing her mom and kid brother around if it meant they got things done.

Cassandra hadn’t much focused on her own pain. She preferred to channel it creatively, instead, and had been playing violin a lot. She’d also learned to paint, because it sounded interesting, and it was a break from music. Though Cassandra did love music, she loved anything creative, and wanted to experience all those creative things at least once.

Sometimes, it was hard to want to keep going. It was hard to want to get up out of bed and handle things, make meals, pester Alexander about taking showers and actually going to sleep at night. There were times Cassandra didn’t want to do her homework, didn’t think she could handle going to school, withdrew from others. She was allowed, she knew that. Anyone in her position would likely feel the same way. Cassandra simply also had certain expectations for herself. Much of the time, these expectations weren’t difficult to meet, but occasionally they became unnecessarily harsh, and she had to remember that.

Cassandra quickly finished making breakfast. It was something simple again, but all she really felt like making was simple meals, things that weren’t too complicated and didn’t take too long. Alexander didn’t seem to mind, and Bella was often too depressed to tell the difference. She was beginning to cheer up a little, a bit at a time, and Cassandra hoped chasing her to take care of herself was almost over. She wanted her mother to remember how to live, and maybe find some peace with the whole thing. Cassandra would bring him back. Somehow, some way. She had to believe that, because that belief had been all that was getting her through these days, through the pain.

As soon as she was done plating breakfast, Alexander came down the stairs, and got himself a plate.

“Good morning, kiddo,” Cassandra greeted.

“Morning,” he answered. He didn’t sound as upset as he usually did, as he had the last few days. Maybe there was hope there, he might be feeling better. “This is one of my favourite breakfasts, Cass.”

“Is it?” Cassandra asked.

Alexander nodded, almost skipping to the dining room to sit down and eat.

Cassandra giggled a bit at his antics. “I’ll try and remember to make it more often, then.” It was fortunately one of the easier things to make, and she wouldn’t complain too much about it being made more frequently. It kept her from having to make something more time intensive.

“So,” Cassandra started, settling down in her seat beside Alexander. “How are you feeling?” It’d been a few days, of course. Alexander seemed to be doing okay, but it was a good idea to check in on him here and there. He probably wouldn’t volunteer to talk about how he felt with Cassandra or Bella, because both took it just as hard, and Alexander tended to be a fairly thoughtful boy, for a kid.

“I don’t know,” Alexander answered, pushing his food around his plate. “I thought I was doing okay, but I keep getting sad all over again.”

Cassandra nodded in understanding. “It happens to us all, kiddo,” she said. “I thought I was okay last night, but I woke up today, and I’m kind of sad again. It’s normal to feel like that.” It was one of the most normal things to feel they’d ever felt before, and Cassandra didn’t want him to think less of himself for it.

“Oh,” Alexander said, looking thoughtful. “So, it’s normal to feel better and then not anymore?”

Cassandra nodded. “It is kiddo,” she said. “There’ll be days that are better than others, and it’s okay. It’s okay to feel better and then slip a little. Just keep going forward. You’ll get the hang of it eventually, and those times when you feel worse than other times will become less frequent, until one day you’ll look up and realise you haven’t had a bad day in a long time.”

“I look forward to that,” Alex said. “How are you doing? Do you need help with anything?”

“You’re being help enough,” Cassandra said. “Thank you though. I have good moments and bad ones too. I think I’m getting closer to being okay.” Cassandra hoped she was.

“Okay,” Alexander said. “Just let me know if you need me to do something. I don’t mind helping, and, I want to. We gotta stick together, right Cass?”

“Yeah,” Cassandra answered. “We got each other still. We should stick together for sure.”

Alexander went quiet for a moment, thinking. And then, he looked up at Cassandra again, and asked, “So, is dad ever coming back? I know mom won’t really tell me.”

Cassandra reached over and patted his arm. “Hey,” she said. “Someday, yeah, maybe he will. I can’t say for sure, but she was right. Just remember him as much as you can, and he won’t ever be too far away.”

“Is that adult speak for he’s not coming back?” Alexander asked. “He died, didn’t he?”

Cassandra sighed. “It’s a little more complicated than that,” she said. “I want to explain it, but I think you’re a bit young for it yet. It’s okay. You’ll understand someday.”

“Okay,” Alexander said. “Well, before we go to school, could we start reading one of dad’s books? I’ve always wanted to read them, but a lot of the words are too complicated for me.”

Cassandra smiled somewhat sadly. It should be Mortimer he was reading those with, but it was a good way to keep his memory alive. “Yeah kiddo,” she said. “We can do that.”

* * *

Unfortunately, it was a question she was going to have to ask Bella. No one else in the house would have answers for her, and Cassandra wasn’t sure where to start. Did they have answers to where to go to activate your magic at the library? Something told her no, probably not. The most that’d do would be frustrate her, most likely.

Instead, Cassandra did her homework at the dining room table, waiting for Bella to return home. She didn’t have to wait long, as eventually her mother opened the door, her heels clacking on the entryway floor. Bella wasted little time in coming into the dining room, and sitting down. Cassandra murmured a greeting, and then stood up, shuffling into the kitchen for a moment and returning with two cups of tea. She set one of the cups down in front of Bella, the other beside her homework.

“Ah, thank you,” Bella said, sounding amused. “You’re sure picking up my slack well enough.”

“Someone has to,” Cassandra replied, shrugging one shoulder. As long as the housework got done, it didn’t honestly matter who did it, or at least, that was what Cassandra figured.

Bella loosed a sigh. “I suppose you’re right,” she said, glancing out the window for a moment. “It just seems like you shouldn’t be worrying about things like housework.”

Cassandra shook her head. “It’s fine,” she reassured. “Sometimes things turn out that way, and that’s fine. It has to be done, and you’re too busy working, and we probably can’t afford another butler.”

Her mother looked a bit pained. “Ah, no, we can’t,” she said, confirming what Cassandra suspected. With her father gone, their income was even lower, too, and Cassandra still didn’t know what Bella did for a living, but it probably didn’t pay quite _that_ well. “How are you doing?”

Cassandra almost looked surprised for a moment. She suspected her mother wouldn’t ask. After all, Bella had the brunt of it, but there was some solidarity to be had, she supposed. Cassandra shrugged one shoulder. “Some days are worse than others,” she said. She’d told Alexander as much, and it was still valid.

“Boy do I hear that,” Bella grumbled into her teacup.

“There’s food in the fridge, if you’re hungry,” Cassandra mentioned. It sounded off-hand, but it probably wasn’t. Cassandra expected to need to continue to chase after Bella and make sure she took care of herself, because it wasn’t as if her mother would _magically_ become good at it all of the sudden. As much as she wished that would be how it worked, it wouldn’t, and Cassandra knew it.

Bella blinked, setting her teacup back down on the table. “Sounds like a good idea,” she said, more to herself. “I might’ve skipped lunch. I honestly can’t remember.”

Cassandra frowned. “That’s not a good thing.”

“I know,” Bella said, sighing. “It’s just easy to get caught up in things at work and forget to do certain things and, well, eating is one of those things.”

“Long as you eat, and try not to make it a habit,” Cassandra said, still frowning, “I guess it’s fine.”

“Which of us is the mother here?” Bella asked, looking amused. She almost smiled for the first time since Mortimer had gone away. Cassandra almost didn’t want to ruin the moment, but the answer to this question was important.

“How do I activate my magic?” she asked. “Do I have to wait until it activates on its own, or can I do it early?”

Bella blinked in surprised, and then drew a breath in. It’d figure that was what Cassandra wanted to know, but while she looked like she’d rather not answer, she did anyway. “You’ll have to find a Sage for that,” she said.

“And where does one find one of those?” Cassandra asked. “I don’t imagine they hang out at the library on Tuesdays.”

Bella snorted. “No, not really,” she answered. “You’re looking for a quiet little township just beyond Granite Falls called Glimmerbrook. You’ll have to go there the hard way,” Bella explained, standing up and finding some paper and a pen. As she sat back down, she started sketching something on the paper. “Your Glimmerstone isn’t active either, just yet, since your powers are still dormant, and normally we use the stone.”

“What’s a Glimmerstone?” Cassandra asked, watching her mother sketch in curiosity.

“The crystal you’ve always had that never seems to get lost, that’s a Glimmerstone,” Bella answered. “It can transportalate you directly to the Magic Realm whenever you want, if, of course, you’re an active spellcaster. Unfortunately, you aren’t, so you’ll have to make the journey and find the Sages on your own, but the way to Glimmerbrook isn’t difficult. You could do it on a weekend easily enough.” Bella tilted her head at the sketch, and then put the pen down, turning the paper around.

It was a map, Cassandra could see. She was looking for a large waterfall just past Granite Falls. There was a mountain range on the right side, she wasn’t sure what that was. Her mother hadn’t labelled it, but the path she sent her went around it. She’d have to go partway into Selvadorada, she thought, to get there.

“This is a little bit out of the way,” Cassandra said, eyeing the map.

“There are faster ways,” Bella answered, “but I don’t want you taking those faster routes. They’re too dangerous.”

Cassandra glanced at Bella over the top of the paper. She recognised the tone Bella had just used. It wasn’t up for discussion. Bella had made up her mind. She’d told her where to go to find the Sages, though. She should be glad for that, and not push her luck too hard, because Bella could’ve refused to tell Cassandra how to activate her magic at all. She could’ve decided that messing around with magic was far too dangerous for her, just like these other routes apparently were.

“Okay,” Cassandra said. “I may be gone this weekend, then.”

Bella didn’t seem surprised, but she also didn’t seem terribly pleased. “Just be careful,” Bella said. “There are some coffins that are better left closed, my dear.”

Yes, Cassandra knew this. She also knew that some coffins were better yanked open.


	11. Chapter 11

The pages were slightly worn but lined in gold, and Cassandra wasn’t sure she liked gold. Her mother was more enthusiastic about gold than she was, but Cassandra had learned to live with it. She would’ve liked some nice silver tone, or even no lining at all. She had a roll of clear tape to one side on the desk, and was setting letters, pictures, notes, anything of her father she could find in her little owl diary, and taping the edges down to protect from fraying. Her father always kept notes scribbled on sticky pads for his books. Sometimes, Cassandra thought about continuing in her father’s footsteps and becoming a writer, but she couldn’t imagine trying to make sense of anything in her head like that. How he always managed to do it, that one Cassandra may never know. Maybe that wasn’t for her to know.

Quietly, she pulled a picture out of the stack. It was a photo of them all in front of the new bank in Magnolia Promenade. Across the street was the restaurant they went to to celebrate Cassandra’s graduation from grade school into high school. Alexander had been much younger then, barely able to sit up on his own, but he’d been fairly well-behaved through the entire outing. Cassandra had spent most of the time they were there paying a lot of attention to Alexander. Bella and Mortimer had spent all that time gushing about how their little girl was growing up so fast.

She didn’t feel like she’d grown up very fast at all. Every day, it felt like she was a little smaller than the day before, and it wasn’t a very pleasant feeling. As much as she might want to will it all away, that wasn’t how anything worked in this world. Well, maybe sometimes magic worked that way. It wasn’t like Cassandra would know, because no one told her anything about magic so far.

Sometimes, if she went through these little notes and pictures, she found hints and evidence that they _were_ spellcasters, and her parents weren’t working together on a weird joke. (Her parents always did have a wild sense of humour.) Cassandra sighed to herself, standing up from her desk and crossing her room. Her bookbag was on her bed, and she went to rummaging through it, looking for something. Eventually, the girl came up with another stack of papers and pictures. These were from Alexander’s birthday from toddler to child. That seemed like so long ago. It all seemed like so long ago, that they were all together and a proper family.

If Cassandra was being honest with herself, she wasn’t sure if she was ready for this. It’d probably take a lot out of her, to become anything _near_ a spellcasting master, because Cassandra wasn’t someone that tried to stand out. Everyone _else_ was always the hero, not her, but maybe it was okay to be the hero in your own story.

Was this her story? Well, it was her life, maybe it was close enough. And if she never had the courage to jump, she’d never know what it was like to fly.

Cassandra settled back down at her desk, arranging the notes and pictures and taping them down. She had so many pages in her journal filled with memories of their family, but she felt like she’d need them. It seemed to her that she’d need every single one, because she’d need to remember who she was, and what she was fighting for. It’d be easy to forget, when things got tough and she felt like it wasn’t worth anything and she just wanted to give up and go home. Maybe she’d never have a normal life again after this, but there was no turning back, not now.

She may not have said anything, not aloud, but she’d promised her mother she’d bring Mortimer home, in her heart, and that was good enough.

As Cassandra pressed the last bit of tape around the last picture’s edges, she heard the clock downstairs chime the time. She paused what she was doing, listening to the clock and counting the number of chimes. It was almost time for Alexander and Bella to come home. Bella hadn’t been doing too much better, but she’d at least gotten into the habit of making herself eat. Cassandra could be glad for that, because it gave her more time to pursue other things that needed to be done around the house, like cooking and cleaning. She wondered if there was a spell to do that faster. _That’d_ certainly come in handy.

Now was the time. If she’d ever intended to go, now was the time to go, and she knew it but she was afraid. Cassandra had never truly been good at anything, and it was possible she wouldn’t even really be good at this either. That was a chance she’d have to take. And if it turned out she wasn’t good at magic, and couldn’t figure it out, then it was a valiant defeat. No one would be able to say she didn’t try, and give it her best. Her mind started racing with ideas of all the different things she could busy herself with doing, so that later tonight she could say, oh, it’s gotten too late to find Glimmerbrook now, better give up and maybe try again some other time, but no. No, she had no intention of letting herself put it off. It was now or never, and never wasn’t an option.

Cassandra glanced to one side, at the mirror over there, watched her reflection for a moment. And then her jaw set, and Cassandra stood up, grabbing the map that Bella had drawn her off the top of her dresser. Glimmerbrook wasn’t coming to her.

* * *

The mountains were difficult to traverse, but Cassandra had done okay, she thought. The birds were chirping happily in the trees, and the air seemed somehow cooler and cleaner away from the city. It wasn’t as if Willow Creek was a bustling metropolis like Bridgeport or San Myshuno, but there were a lot of cars driving around in it. And she supposed to street cars probably emitted _some_ kind of something unpleasant.

Cassandra paused as she came down the hill enough to see what she figured was the start of Glimmerbrook. She checked the map her mother had drawn, and looking at it, she’d either found Glimmerbrook, or a new town she’d never heard of. She _hoped_ this was the town she was looking for. She saw, to one side, a creek bubbling happily amid the evergreens. The trees were beautiful, mostly tall pines, but it looked like there were a few maple and oak trees scattered around. At this vantage point, the town was breathtaking, and coated in a slight fog that only added to the town’s mystery.

Cassandra smiled to herself, and then headed for what looked like a bar. Sure, she wasn’t of legal drinking age, but she could go in at least. People liked to talk at bars, and it might be a good place to get information. She was looking for the Sages, her mother had said, but something told Cassandra just up and asking someone wasn’t a very good idea. How many people _knew_ about magic, anyway? Cassandra had no idea, and maybe making too many newbie mistakes this early in the game didn’t sound like a great idea.

As she meandered into the pub, she noticed it wasn’t terribly _pretty_. It could use some adjustment to liven it up a little bit, but what did she know? Of course, she wasn’t going to say anything. Instead, the teen went up to the bar, and ordered a cup of hot cocoa. It wasn’t yet _cold_ , but it was certainly cooler here than in Willow Creek. It probably had something to do with the mountain air. It was a bit easier to breathe it, but also somehow more difficult. Cassandra had to pay attention to her breathing from time to time, making sure she wasn’t breathing too shallowly.

“Here you go love,” the bartender said, handing her a cup of cocoa. “You look like you’re looking for something.”

Cassandra smiled and murmured a thank you, taking a sip of the drink. It was just right; just a hint of creaminess from the milk. “I am,” she answered.

“Well, most people that’re lookin’ for stuff around here are looking for some of that sage plant,” the bartender said.

That got Cassandra’s attention. She hadn’t been sure how to word the question in a way that those that knew what she was talking about recognised the question, but those that had no idea didn’t get more information than necessary. The bartender smirked.

“Yeah, I thought so,” the bartender said. “If you hang around long enough, one of the three that sell it come up here every day. Not sure who’s on the roster today, but they should be here in about an hour or two.”

“Thank you,” Cassandra said, earnestly.

“No problem,” she answered. “Just make sure you’re sure you wanna get mixed up with them. They’ve got some interesting reputations, and you look like a nice girl.”

Well, looks were deceiving sometimes, but Cassandra simply smiled. “I’ll keep that in mind.” With that, Cassandra took her mug of cocoa, and headed off to the side to clear up some bar space for people that _actually_ wanted to order from the bar. She settled down in a seat at the window, set her cocoa down on the table, and people watched.

They had _interesting reputations_ , huh? She was sure they did. It was probably difficult to carry out the varying things the Sages had to do without it being awkward. She wondered _what_ they did. Her mother had made it sound like they were magical guides for those interested in magic, or those that were born with the ability to use it and had no training. Like every generation eventually came to Magic Realm to learn more about how to use magic, and who they were, at the same time.

That sounded nice, Cassandra thought. If someone else could help her figure out who it was that she was meant to be, that would be nice, because it wasn’t like Cassandra had any brilliant ideas.

She smiled a little to herself. As she sat, someone else settled down next to her. He had black hair, and dusky skin. It was a very pretty tone.

“I haven’t see you around before,” the man said. “Are you new here?”

“I am,” Cassandra answered. “I’m uh… here for studying.”

“Oooh,” he said. “I am too. My name’s Tomax.” He held his hand out for her to shake.

“Cassandra,” she answered, taking his hand. He seemed like a decent enough guy, and maybe it’d be nice to have a talk with someone while waiting for one of the Sages to make an appearance.

“I like that name,” Tomax said. “Welcome to Glimmerbrook.”

“Thank you,” she said.

“Unfortunately the town’s so small, the pub’s the only interesting thing about it,” he said.

“I don’t mind it too much.”

“The only interesting thing is when one of the sa – one of the herbalists comes by,” Tomax said.

Cassandra smiled a little. “I’m actually here to see one of them,” Cassandra said. “I have a sage plant I need help with.”

“Ooh,” Tomax said, smiling a bit in return. “I see. Well, L. should be by today. You can’t miss her, she’s so pale she probably bursts into flames in the sun, and her hair’s pink.”

“Pink’s an attention-grabbing colour, for sure,” Cassandra said. If her hair was really pink, it shouldn’t be too difficult to find her.

“Yeah,” Tomax agreed. “She’s often in a bad mood, so try not to take her demeanour too personally.”

“I’ll try,” Cassandra replied. “Thanks for the warning.”

“Are you new to it, or born with it?” he asked.

“Both, actually,” she answered. “My parents didn’t tell me until more recently.”

“Oooh,” Tomax replied. “Well, definitely good luck, and if you ever need anything, I live with my friend Grace, first house down the road on the right. Feel free to stop by and say hi.”

“Thank you,” Cassandra answered, sincerely. She felt like making friends that were also magical would probably be helpful. It wasn’t like the girl she sat next to in geometry class would have any idea what she was on about if she started complaining at her about magic.

“Well, I’ll let you alone to look for L.,” Tomax said, standing up. “Maybe we’ll see each other later. And good luck. You might need it with L.”

* * *

Cassandra lost track of how long she was in the pub waiting for this L. person. Tomax had seemed more interested in something else that had a lot to do with the bartender, and that was none of Cassandra’s business for sure. She wished him luck, if it was luck that he needed, and she kept to her hot cocoa and watching the people. It wasn’t very loud here, and she found herself pleased with that. Cassandra never was one for large crowds and too much talking, though people watching, from a decent distance, wasn’t so bad.

Soon enough, though, someone new walked in. She had impossibly pale skin, and an oddly saturated pink hair colour. Around her neck was a silver chain with a purple-tinted gemstone attached to it. It looked familiar, like she’d seen it before… unconsciously, Cassandra reached up and touched her own pendant, the protection talisman her mother had given her. It was the same one, just a different colour combination. Bella did say they were popular in Magic Realm… and her hair colour seemed to indicate this woman was L.

She didn’t know her full name, just the L. Unless her name was Elle, and she’d simply misunderstood. In any case, she watched the woman for a short time. She seemed to sneer at most anyone she spoke to, and had an air of impoliteness. It wasn’t exactly a snobbish attitude, but similarly unpleasant. Cassandra wasn’t sure she wanted to speak to this woman, but on the other hand, it wasn’t like she had any _other_ leads.

Cassandra glanced around for Tomax. He caught her gaze and nodded in L.’s direction, mouthing, ‘That’s her.’ Cassandra sighed to herself, and then nodded and gave Tomax a thumbs up. He went back to flirting with the bartender, or whatever it was he was doing.

She needed this woman’s help to be able to bring her father home, and there was something inherently uncomfortable about that realisation. She needed all of them to help her learn enough about magic to be able to use it effectively, and Cassandra wasn’t certain she was okay with depending on others for something so important and close to the heart. It wasn’t like she had a choice in the matter, though. Once again, her jaw set, and Cassandra stood up and moved over to the bar.

“I did,” L. was saying, talking to the bartender. “He thought he could just have a child with me and ditch it. HA. Nobody escapes L. Faba.”

“It’s about time somebody beat Don at his own game, though,” the bartender said.

Cassandra slipped into the seat next to L., listening to the exchange.

The bartender noticed her, and smiled. “Good luck with Mr. Lothario, L.,” the bartender said, slipping down the bar to go talk to one of the others seated there.

Cassandra cleared her throat, slightly. “Sorry to interrupt you,” she said. “I heard you’re L.? I’m Cassandra.” Maybe leaving her last name out of it would be a better idea. She still didn’t quite trust anyone here.

“Yeah?” L. asked. “I’m L. What about it?”

“Is that L. like the letter or -“

“The letter,” L. answered. “I don’t like my full name.”

“I see. Uhm, well -“

“Come on sweet cheeks,” L. said. “I ain’t got all day and I don’t imagine you do either. Or maybe you do and following people around is something you’re into. Did you hang around here all day waiting for me to show up?”

“So what if I did?” Cassandra asked, sounding only a little offended.

“Listen sweetie, I’ve got way more important things to be doing than babysitting, so if you’ll be on your way now -“

“Do you know of the Goths or Crowleys?” she asked.

L. frowned. “They’re long gone now, princess. If they’re who you’re looking for, you’re out of luck.”

“I’m looking for a sage.” Clearly, L. wasn’t in a good mood today, or maybe she was just always this abrasive. Either way, Cassandra could do with not being in her presence anymore.

“I see,” L. answered. “You’re one of those. I’ll tell you now, you won’t find instant riches or solve all your romance troubles overnight or -“

“Just tell me where I can find one, and we can both be relieved of one another’s presence,” Cassandra interrupted.

L. snorted softly. “Sounds like a great idea,” she agreed. “Follow the road to the creek. Follow the creek’s flow to the waterfall. There’s an archway at the top of the waterfall. Walk into it.” With that, L. turned away from the girl and back to the bartender, who by now was well into flirting with Tomax.

Cassandra considered the answer she’d gotten, and then stood up and headed out of the pub. There was an archway at the end of the creek, huh? Her dark brown gaze searched the area outside the building. The sun was almost directly overhead, and Cassandra paused a moment to enjoy the warmth on her face. _Hang in there, daddy_ , she thought. She just needed a little bit longer, but she was almost there, she was sure of it.

Ah, she heard it. Cassandra turned and followed the sound of the babbling brook, down the road a bit. The water rushed under the road, and Cassandra moved around the bridge and started following the creek. Eventually, she’d get to the archway at the top of the waterfall, right? Well, if L. was to be believed, and unfortunately, Cassandra had no reason not to believe her. If nothing else, this creek couldn’t go on forever.


	12. Chapter 12

That seemed to be the portal she was looking for. It was a normal archway, just standing there on a stone at the top of a waterfall. For a moment, Cassandra looked through it. On the other side, all she saw was the rest of Glimmerbrook, and beyond, Granite Falls. She wondered what the other side would be like, and then figured she didn’t really want to know right away. She’d learn when she got there, and musing on it probably wasn’t a good idea. She’d spend so long musing that she couldn’t work up the courage to go in, and not going in wasn’t an option. She had to.

Magic Realm was maybe her only hope.

With that thought in mind, Cassandra’s hands balled into fists, and she set her jaw again. The cool air sent shivers down her spine, and she marched right through the archway, one hand out in front of her, as the world spun and twisted and changed. There was a great flash of light, and then Glimmerbrook was gone, and there were so many stars. Cassandra looked up at the sky, a smaller ball of light that looked like a sun in the sky, glimmers of colours whirling around. It was stunning.

As she looked around, though, she saw what her father meant. Bits of broken building had begun pulling away into the sky, the bridges between the floating islands broken up into pieces, the waterfalls dropping into nothingness. In that moment, seeing the damage that had been wrought, the difference between the picture her father had shown her that day and what she was looking at, she felt an intense sadness. How old was Magic Realm, she wondered. How many centuries of history and knowledge were threatening to be lost?

Cassandra wondered why, and whether something could be done to stop it, but perhaps that wasn’t for her to be worried about. It wasn’t like, given how young and inexperienced a spellcaster she was, she could be of any help. She didn’t even know the first thing about magic, and perhaps it was just as well. Magic Realm was just so beautiful, and so unlike anything she’d ever seen. She wondered what the shops were down that way, on a different island than the one she’d come to. How did people get around? Oh, there were archways at the broken ends of the bridges that once connected the islands together. That was clever. If they worked anything like the archway she’d just come through, they teleported between islands. Certainly, Cassandra couldn’t think of any other way of handling the situation.

She turned back around, staring up at the large building in front of her. A creek bubbled behind it, a bridge leading to an open area. Little flickers of lights were scattered around the trees, and she watched the light from the odd sun in the sky filter through the leaves. It was beautiful and she wanted to spend more time watching the environment out of sheer fascination, but, she was here for a reason. Being a tourist wasn’t going to find sages.

Cassandra turned back to the building once again, and then wandered up to the door. She tapped lightly on the wood, waiting. “Hello?” she called. Though there were flames dancing against the walls she could see through the large windows, no one seemed to answer. So, she decided to see if the door was open. She tried the handle, and sure enough, it unlatched when she turned it. This place wasn’t really a _house_ , so it wasn’t the same thing as intruding, or at least, that was how Cassandra figured it. Quietly, she stepped into the entryway, closing the door behind her.

This place made her feel strange. Tingly and giddy, almost, but also like someone was watching her. Perhaps these sages wanted to observe before making contact. That made some semblance of sense to her, and so that in mind, Cassandra looked around. The centre of the entryway had a sunken area with an interesting design in the stone. She spent a moment studying the floor, looking at the interesting symbols etched into the stone, and felt like she should know those symbols. Like she’d seen them somewhere before, but she would’ve remembered them, she was sure.

Cassandra shook her head, peeking around one side. She then followed the corridor, and came up to another room with rows of bookshelves and what looked like a fairly large pot of some kind. Looking under it, Cassandra saw a cluster of crystals beneath, but she couldn’t say why there were crystals under it. The place smelled strongly of aged paper and perhaps the slightly pungent scent of ink. She loved the scent of paper.

“Is anyone here?” she asked again. Just slightly, she could hear her words echo faintly, but nothing ever answered. Cassandra sighed. It’d seem no one was here, but she could _feel_ their presences, could sense them watching her. It was making her a little uneasy, to be honest, but she had to stay, and prove whatever it was they were looking for.

As she turned to the side, to go explore some more, one of the books on the shelves caught her attention. The spine was faded and worn, but just slightly, she could make out the name Ravenna Goth. Cassandra glanced around one more time, and then reached out to pull the book off the shelf. It practically _jumped_ at her, and Cassandra had to admit to being a bit startled by it. Quietly, Cassandra cradled the book in her hands, and settled down in one of the nearby chairs. The cover title was labelled _The Five Elements_. Cassandra frowned, slightly. There were four elements, everyone knew that. But the author was called Ravenna Goth. Was this one of her ancestors? It seemed most likely.

A loud thunk sounded from behind her. Cassandra jumped up from the chair, a quiet gasp loosing, and whirled around. There on the floor was another book. Cassandra glanced the other way, and then cautiously approached the tome on the floor. This one was called _Plants and their Magickal Properties_ , by someone called Silver Bachelor.

Cassandra carefully lifted that book up, too, and then returned to her seat. For now, it’d seem she had reading material, even if the sages had decided to remain hiding.

* * *

She spent as long as she felt like reading the books that were on the shelves. So many of the tomes were about surprising things, like the early spellcaster wars and the effects of the witch hunts on the overall world economy. That was a surprising subject, but Cassandra had found herself drawn into the tales. She wasn’t sure how to tell the time in this place, but her watch said it was much earlier than it looked like. There was some momentary concern about whether or not the time was _correct_ , because perhaps not. It was possible time flowed differently here. _Cassandra_ sure didn’t know how this all worked.

Instead of worrying about it too much, she put the books she’d been reading away, and then headed down the pathway that led to another portal, presumably this one to the island with the rows of shops. She wasn’t a _hundred_ percent sure that was where this portal went, but it was worth trying. That _was_ what was across this bridge. Cassandra took a breath in when she reached it, stared at the designs around the frame, and then stepped through. She came out the other side, right next to one of the shops. Cassandra released a breath she hadn’t been aware she’d been holding, and then turned to see the row. There were only a handful of stores along this cobblestone road. They each had different stock, and Cassandra was greatly interested in their wares.

The first one seemed to be mostly books and… what were these sticks for?

“Oh, hello, Cassandra,” a familiar voice said. Cassandra looked up, and found a familiar face smiling at her.

“Mister Kim?” she asked. Dennis Kim was the father of Alice Spencer-Kim, one of their neighbours in Willow Creek. Well, sort of neighbours; they lived across the creek. He was somewhat transparent, though. “Oh my gosh…”

“Oh don’t worry,” Dennis said. “I haven’t died, this is a special effect.”

Oh. That was good then. She wasn’t sure she was terribly fond of having a discussion about magical tomes with a dead guy she used to be friendly with.

“Have any idea what you’re looking for?” Dennis asked.

“I’m not sure,” Cassandra answered honestly. “This magic stuff is new to me.”

“Well, in that case, I’d definitely have a look at the other stores,” Dennis suggested. “This store carries familiars, wands, and tomes. If you go right over there, you’ll find crystals and brooms for sale. And finally, you’ll find the potion ingredient shop. They’re all worth looking into. Are you after anything in particular?”

Cassandra thought for a moment, and then shrugged one shoulder. “I was up there, at that building,” she said, pointing at the building she’d been in a few moments before. “Looking for the three Sages, but I couldn’t find them.”

“Ahh,” Dennis said, smiling knowingly. “They’re up there, alright. Well, L. got married some time ago, so she comes and goes, but Simeon and Morgyn should still be around. If you didn’t come across them, they’re probably waiting until you’re ready.”

Cassandra frowned. “What’s that mean?” she asked.

“Oh, who knows,” Dennis replied. “Probably, it means different things to either one, but just keep being yourself, Cassandra. You’re of good blood, good strong blood. One or the other one will eventually decide to come to you. And don’t mind L. so much,” Dennis added. “She’s always in a bad mood.”

Cassandra considered that for a moment, and then had to move to one side as someone else stepped up to speak with Dennis about purchasing a book. “Thank you, Mr. Kim,” she said, before wandering on her way. The woman that had come up seemed curious about her as she glanced her way, but she didn’t stop the girl as she left.

“Who was that?” the woman asked, dark skin and dark braided hair, which was in a short style that hung slightly in her face over her forehead. She wore white and yellow, and somewhat stood out.

Dennis smiled, reaching for the books Grace had asked for, and handing them to her. “That would be Miss Cassandra Goth,” he said.

“ _Goth_?” Grace repeated. “I thought they’d left the Magic Realm for good?”

“So it would seem,” Dennis said. “But it might yet be that this newer generation of the Goth family are returning, and the Realm will be better for their presence.”

“You think so?” Grace asked. “It seems kind of silly for them to leave and then change their minds again.”

Dennis patted Grace’s hand. “It is a complicated thing, Grace,” he said. “The Magic Realm holds both wonders, and if you are unfortunate enough to find them, untold terrors, and for the Goths, the Realm had a few more untold terrors than they were willing to put up with. Surely you can understand the desire to protect their family.”

“There’s a threat to them here?” Grace asked. “I haven’t found one.”

Dennis laughed. “Oh, no, but you wouldn’t,” he said. “Ah, but there was a time when the Realm was uneasy, when there were threats to more than just the Goths. We lived in fear, then, of one of the Sages whom had turned to dark magics. That time is over now, thanks to the Goths. It is thanks to that girl’s grandmother that you don’t live in fear now, Miss Grace.”

“A Sage would never -“

“Ah, but one did,” Dennis said. “More than once, if I recall. Power corrupts, Grace, and absolute power corrupts absolutely. It brought my beautiful ex-wife’s life to an end… my daughter never knew she has blood from one of the Five Families, and she never will. I cannot lose her too.” And the more their lineage married non-magical folk, the less magic would be in their veins, until finally, it was gone, and the threat of their destruction would be gone with it. That was Dennis’ goal, why he refused to tell Alice of her heritage.

“I see,” Grace said. “I’m sorry, Mr. Kim.”

“Don’t be,” Dennis said. “Instead, if Miss Goth needs your help and you can give it, do so. You might make a friend along the way, too. She’s a nice girl, she’s just shy.”

* * *

 _And the light converged to create the new realm, a world between one dimension and another, that exists and does not,_ the passage read, and Cassandra wasn’t quite sure how long she’d been reading this book. Then again, she also wasn’t so certain that it mattered. Her mother might be wondering where she was by now, but on the other hand, Bella likely understood how time worked in this place. Cassandra still hadn’t yet gotten the hang of it.

She settled back down in her seat, and then shook her head, and stood back up, returning to the bookshelf she’d been taking books down from. She remembered where they all went, because she left behind something of hers to mark the place. This slot here had a penny, this one had a nickel, this one had her bracelet… it was better than forgetting where the books went and inadvertently making a mess of it.

Quietly, she slid one of the other books down, leafing through it, her elbow holding the place it was at open. Cassandra sighed slightly, jiggled her leg. So far, she’d mostly been learning a lot of the Realm’s history. Nothing about Circe was in any of these books, but Cassandra didn’t expect _that_. That would’ve been stunning to find out her parents were old enough to be in _history_ books, but then somehow it also wouldn’t be surprising. She was learning about magical plants and how herbs were ground together to make them suitable for creating potions from, how crystals were ground into dust for the same, how the Realm was founded and how it worked and what the Great Vortex was theorised to be.

Cassandra huffed, putting the book back. “But where is the one _before_ this one…” she said, more to herself. Her voice echoed slightly. She could still feel that someone was watching her, but she hadn’t run into anyone else since she’d been at the shops down the way and spoken to Mr. Kim. It was surprising that he had anything to do with this place, but then it also made sense. How many others that were living in Willow Creek, that she saw in day to day life, were also spellcasters? How did anyone _tell_ who was a spellcaster and who wasn’t?

That seemed to be part of the root causes of the witch hunts of the middle ages. No one knew who was a spellcaster and who wasn’t, and it incited the masses into wave after wave of hysteria. Things like that still occasionally happened in the world even now, so certainly Cassandra could believe it. She frowned to herself, and then shook her head and went back to her books.

Except that she turned around, and suddenly there was another person there, just behind her. It was difficult for her to say for sure if the Sim she was looking at was male or female. There was a strong androgyny that seemed both effortless and deliberate, and Cassandra found herself immediately jealous of how beautiful they were. Short, blond waves framed their face, piercing green eyes that seemed older than the body they looked out from.

There were pretty Sims everywhere, but this one was so beautiful it made her heart hurt.

“I -” she started, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude. I was just reading… um, I’m Cas -“

“Cassandra Goth,” they said, and it sounded masculine but still somehow melodic and at a higher register than Cassandra might’ve expected out of a man. “Yes, I know. My name’s Morgyn Ember, and I’m the Sage of Untamed Magic. And I may or may not have been expecting you. Not quite this soon, though, I have to admit.”

Oh. Morgyn knew her name. Why did one of the Sages know her name? “I see,” she said. Hadn't Bella mentioned someone named Morgyn...?

Morgyn smiled, an oddly mischievous look if she’d ever seen one, and then reached around her to slide one of the books off the shelf. Morgyn then held it out for her. “This is the one that comes before that one,” Morgyn said.

“Thank you,” she said, gratefully taking the book, and then she slid one of her other bracelets into the slot it used to occupy.

“Do you always mark their place like that?” Morgyn asked.

“Yeah,” Cassandra said, moving back toward the table she was reading at. “It seems kind of rude to me, to come in and start rearranging the books on the shelves. So I mark where the different books I’ve pulled out came from, that way I can put them back where they were.”

Morgyn looked surprised, and then smiled softly. “Clever.”

Cassandra shook her head. “Not really,” she said.

Well, _Morgyn_ thought it was clever, but clearly Cassandra Goth didn’t have much in the way of confidence. The Sage could see that much already, as it was rather obvious in her demeanour, the way she held herself. Morgyn had to wonder what had happened in her life to make her, probably one of the most powerful spellcasters the Realm will have ever known, like that, but there was time for that later.

They’d be spending a lot of time together in the future, because L. was too busy raising a family, and Simeon was… well, he was a jerk sometimes. A little too blunt for a young and rather delicate flower such as Cassandra to be able to handle extended periods of time around. Morgyn loved Simeon like a brother, truly, but he was awfully candid, and not always in a good way. It was most likely that Morgyn would be the one guiding her, though Morgyn _did_ figure the Goths would be doing the majority of the leg-work. After all, they were one of the Five Families. Morgyn was just some poor farmer from rural France. Or had been at one point.

“I think it’s clever,” Morgyn said, head raising slightly. “And welcome, officially, to Magic Realm.”


	13. Chapter 13

“What all have you been reading?” Morgyn hadn’t gone away, like Cassandra had half expected, but she was thankful for that. Most likely, she was going to have to make friends with the Sages, because each of them had things she could learn from them that the others couldn’t teach.

She smiled slightly, and then tapped one of the book covers. “This one’s the history of Magic Realm,” she said. “These are about magical plants, and then this one’s about the Five Families.”

Morgyn seemed surprised. “I’d figure your parents would be teaching you these things.”

Cassandra turned her head down, and seemed saddened, but she simply shrugged one shoulder. “They’re busy,” she said.

“I see,” Morgyn said. A moment passed in silence. “Oh, how did the negotiations with Circe go?”

Right, she supposed the Sages wouldn’t know about that. They wouldn’t know her father had been more or less killed by that vampire. Her being a vampire now was fitting, because Cassandra saw her as a parasite. But still her mother believed the best in her until the very end, and so too was that fitting. Her mother wouldn’t want Cassandra to kill her, but frankly, that was exactly what she wanted to do. Her hands curled into fists for a moment, and then relaxed. “She declined,” Cassandra said. “Circe doesn’t have any interest in returning.”

That was, of course, what she said, but Morgyn didn’t _exactly_ buy it. On the other hand, they didn’t know one another very well for the Sage to call her on it, either, so Morgyn didn’t say anything about that directly. “Well, maybe she’ll change her mind later,” Morgyn said.

“Maybe,” Cassandra said. She wasn’t terribly interested in talking about Circe. “So, my mother says my magic is dormant, and I need a Sage to activate it. Could I convince you to?”

Morgyn smiled. “Sure, move over this way for me though. I need more space. And you’re going to want it, too. I don’t imagine you enjoy smacking into tables.”

Cassandra snorted softly. “I’m not fond of it, no,” she said, shuffling away from the table a bit. Morgyn backed up, gesturing for her where she should be, and then there was light and colour everywhere. Streams of magic slid around her, lifting her off the floor, and the sensation made her _giddy_ somehow. It was like she’d always known magic, and now she _really_ knew it, and that probably wasn’t far from the truth. She smiled a little to herself, as the tendrils of light put her back down.

“That should do it,” Morgyn said.

“That’s it?” Cassandra asked. It seemed a little too easy, if one was asking her. “No epic quests to go save a princess from a tower and slay a dragon?”

Morgyn laughed. “No, no saving princesses or slaying dragons. Though if you want, you could probably set up a good mimicry of it with magic.”

“That sounds like fun,” Cassandra said. “I’ll have to figure out how to handle magic in general first, though. So…. how do I use magic?”

Morgyn couldn’t help the surprised blink. Apparently Mortimer and Bella weren’t teaching Cassandra much of _anything_. “Your parents didn’t get to that either?” Morgyn asked.

“Unfortunately not,” she said. “They seem to think I should be here and make magical friends and whatever.” That seemed like a good excuse to her, and something her mother _might_ just say. Cassandra wasn’t interested in explaining anything to a stranger.

“That’s not a half bad idea, for sure,” Morgyn said, thinking. “Well, we’ll start with the basics, then. You can sense it, right? Magic?”

“I sensed your magic a moment ago,” Cassandra said. “Does that count?”

“Sure,” Morgyn answered. “But now you have to learn what _your_ magic feels like. Only you can figure that out, I can’t tell you. Magic feels different to everyone, anyway. It might feel like warm fuzzies to me, but to someone else, it may feel like a glacier.”

Cassandra nodded, then, trying to think. How did one go finding something they didn’t know what was? She frowned, more to herself, focusing. Well, magic was often colourful and bright, right? Maybe she was looking for a spark, or something like that. How did this usually work in the stories and movies? She squinted at the tiled wall, for a moment, and then one of the tiles shattered. And then three more shattered down the row, and Cassandra looked stunned.

“Well,” Morgyn said, looking amused. “I’d say you found it. Now you have to draw it to the surface, so that you can consciously control it.”

“I didn’t mean to break the -“

“Oh it’s fine,” Morgyn said. “ _Repairio_.” There was a slight burst of golden light, and the broken tiles instantly reconnected back together. It was like they’d never broken at all.

“… I guess when you do magic, breaking things isn’t a problem…” Cassandra said.

Morgyn laughed. “No, it’s not.”

“Bring the magic to the surface, huh?” she asked, tilting her head.

“Like this,” Morgyn said, hands waving over each other, and a swirl of blue light forming a sphere. It was one of the first things spellcasters learnt to do, and it would be the first thing Cassandra learnt to do, as well.

Cassandra blinked once. “You make that look so _easy_.”

“Of course,” Morgyn said. “But I have many years of practise. You don’t become a Sage overnight, of course. Go on. Give it a try.”

Cassandra looked a bit unsure, but after a moment, her eyebrows furrowed together, her jaw set, and she waved her hands in the same way Morgyn had. And it was in that moment that Morgyn saw just how much willpower Cassandra Goth truly had, and perhaps the truth of her potential. She failed the first time, but then she made an annoyed sound, and tried again. That time, her magic came rushing out of her fingertips, forming a very wobbly, but _powerful_ sphere of magical energy. Morgyn would be surprised, if that hadn’t been expected. A girl with blood from four of the Five Families _would_ be powerful.

“Good,” Morgyn said, nodding. “There’s a little too much force behind it, however.” Morgyn lazily snapped two fingers together, and the blue sphere shattered into sparks. “Try it again.” It would seem Cassandra was shaping up to be a very quick learner, and perhaps more powerful than Morgyn had been expecting. Morgyn would have to teach her properly and well, because Cassandra Goth could become a greater threat to Magic Realm than five thousand Circes.

* * *

It was quiet here. Cassandra found herself able to hear herself think much easier, and the weight of her father’s missing presence was gone, too. It was easier to think, easier to _breathe_. Easier to sort out what it was she felt and come to terms with how things had drastically changed. Cassandra missed her father dearly, but also knew that she couldn’t sit down and just _be sad_. Being so depressed for most of her teenage years, it put things into perspective for her in a way that was unlikely to happen to those with less experience with depression. It didn’t really make anything _easier_ , but she understood her own pain, at least.

Morgyn was turning out to be a very good teacher, even if Cassandra wasn’t sure if she could ever learn to do what needed to be done. Would Circe someday hunt _her_ and Alexander down? She wondered. How far would Circe go to see her desires manifested? To cause pain for the Goth family?

This was what he meant. When Mortimer had told her to change her last name, this was what he warned her about it for. Because there were some people that were after her just because of her last name, and something that had happened before she was even born, or she was very young. How many others were there that were like Circe? That hated her just because of her name and something that happened so long ago nobody really remembered the truth of it anymore?

Cassandra sighed. She was sitting on the back steps of magic HQ, taking a break from training with Morgyn. She wasn’t sure what she had been expecting. Maybe some more intrigue and a few more dragons, some secret passageways. Maybe there were a few of the latter, she just hadn’t found them yet. A lot of kids dreamed of places where magic existed, dreamed of being able to _do_ magic, but Cassandra had never been one of them. She just wanted a normal life, for once, and no thanks to this Circe Toledo, now that was gone. Her father was gone, her peaceful family life shattered, Alexander would never be the same, and maybe neither would she. And for what? Power?

Her gaze fell to her lap. A tapping sound came from one side, and she looked up to find Morgyn settling down on the steps beside her.

“You’re in high school then, huh?” Morgyn asked.

Cassandra nodded. “My last year,” she answered.

“What will you do after?”

“I thought about college,” Cassandra said. “But anymore I think I won’t bother.” Her mother needed her around. Alexander did, too, but there was a small part of her that wondered if, in embracing her magical roots, and trying to undo whatever it was Circe had done, she’d inevitably be dragging danger to them. Bella said it herself; she wasn’t the caster that Mortimer was, which meant Circe would be aware that Bella, at least, was as a sitting duck. Cassandra didn’t know if Circe knew about her and Alexander. Maybe it didn’t matter in the end. She’d find out soon enough, that was for sure.

“Why?” Morgyn asked. “College is usually a big help.”

“Not anymore,” Cassandra said. “You can get where college degrees can get you on your own, if you’re willing to fight for it, and I’ve never gotten anything I didn’t fight for to some extent. People think, oh there’s Cassandra Goth, her parents are so rich and famous she must have a silver spoon in her mouth, but my parents didn’t raise me that way. I got what I needed, sure, but what I wanted? That was another story.” And things weren’t always so easy. When she was much younger, she remembered a time when even getting what they needed was difficult. They’d persevered, and made it through, and now they were relatively well off.

Cassandra never forgot that time. She didn’t want to end up the exact spoilt girl everyone was expecting her to be. If ever she had children, she wouldn’t raise them that way, either, even if they _did_ have money.

“That’s true,” Morgyn said. “You’re pretty down to earth, I think. You got that much down.”

Cassandra snorted softly. “Money’s no substitute for common sense and courtesy.”

Morgyn laughed slightly, nodding. “That is very true.” The more they interacted, the more Morgyn thought they could easily get along. Of course, Bella was one of Morgyn’s closest friends, once, and maybe it wasn’t surprising to be able to get along so well with her daughter. There was something Cassandra wasn’t saying, though. Morgyn could see it in her eyes, but truth be told, the Sage was almost afraid to ask. Eyes like those didn’t hide just anything. Whatever it was in her heart, maybe Morgyn didn’t need to know just yet.

“Have you been to Caster’s Alley?” Morgyn asked.

“I assume that’s what the shops that way are called,” Cassandra said. “I have.”

“Good. Back there, you’ll find the portal to the duelling grounds,” Morgyn explained. “Most duels can take place here at headquarters, if you’re just practising, but many prefer to head to the grounds. There’s a bit more room up there, and you’re less likely to catch others up in the battle.”

Cassandra frowned slightly. “Wouldn’t you _also_ have an increased risk of getting flung off the side?”

Morgyn laughed. “Well, sure, but there’s a nifty little spell called transportalate. It will instantly transport you somewhere else. After some practise, you can cast it even amid free-fall.”

Cassandra didn’t think that sounded very good, but whatever Morgyn said. “If you say so.”

“I do,” Morgyn replied, nodding. “The other portal over there, it goes to the conservatory. Most of it’s been destroyed by the Vortex, but you might yet be able to find a couple magical plants and perhaps some frogs still clinging to the vestiges of what _used_ to be a vast garden.”

She turned that way, to catch sight of bits of glass and metal rising toward the aurora-splashed sky, and then nodded once. “Thank you,” she said.

“You’re welcome,” Morgyn answered. “Ready to go back?”

“Actually, do you know what time it is?” Cassandra asked.

Morgyn blinked, and then glanced around the building. There was a clock tower not far. “Looks like 8:44.”

“At night?!” Cassandra shrieked.

“Yes?” Morgyn answered, sounding confused. “Ooooh, right, young humans need to sleep.”

“Yes,” Cassandra replied. “And I have school in the morning and I haven’t done my homework!”

“School starts on Monday?” Morgyn asked.

“Yes, it does,” Cassandra replied.

“But the week starts on Sunday…”

Cassandra rolled her eyes. “I’ll see you next time I get a chance to come this way.”

“Oh, your Glimmerstone,” Morgyn said, as Cassandra stood up, causing her to pause. “It will activate now, the same way I taught you to make magic spheres.”

Oh. Right, her mother said her stone would’ve brought her here, if she had the magic to activate it with. “I’ll remember,” she said. “Gotta go!”

Cassandra turned around and ran for the portal that led to Glimmerbrook. And Morgyn smiled.

* * *

It was hard to come home.

Some part of her resented that. That it hurt to come home, to return to a house her father wasn’t in, back to all the sadness and grief. It wasn’t as if she didn’t _think_ about it, even when she wasn’t home, but it was easier to pretend nothing was wrong when the gaping hole Mortimer used to be in wasn’t obvious. She wanted things to just go back to the way they’d been before, but she knew and everyone else knew that was never going to happen.

Cassandra trudged to the door, wandering into the entryway. She heard Alexander mumbling to himself in the dining room, probably doing his weekend homework, but she couldn’t hear Bella anywhere.

“Hey kiddo,” Cassandra greeted, settling down into a seat at the dining table.

Alexander smiled, though it was a bit sad. “Welcome back.”

“Thanks. How goes the homework?”

Alexander huffed in annoyance. “Not great,” he said. “I’ve got this problem here…”

It’d been a while since Cassandra had done work of this level, but she remembered just enough to be helpful. Eventually, the two of them got through all the work Alexander had to do that he wasn’t sure about. It was good that he was asking questions. That was part of how a Sim learned, and Cassandra was glad that he hadn’t withdrawn.

The entire time they were talking, though, Cassandra noticed she still didn’t hear Bella.

“Has mom been downstairs today?” she asked.

Alexander shook his head. “No,” he answered. “She’s been in her room all day.”

Cassandra sighed. Of course she had been. What else would Bella be doing other than hiding from everything and pretending she didn’t need to eat? For a moment, Cassandra was annoyed. It was a fleeting emotion, one that came and went just as quickly, but perhaps it was no less valid. Cassandra had her own things to be doing, she couldn’t be spending so much time babysitting Bella.

Sooner or later, Bella would get over it. In the meantime, apparently it fell on _her_ shoulders to make sure things still got done and Cassandra was somewhat over it already. When she had no choice but to keep moving in the wake of her father’s loss, when she hadn’t stopped long enough to feel the weight, it wasn’t so hard. Now, though… now was another story. Her chest squeezed uncomfortably, and her heart threatened to implode into itself, and maybe that was how things were _supposed_ to be, but she didn’t _want_ to feel it. She didn’t want to know what it felt like to hurt over this.

Yet in the same breath, she knew if she didn’t hurt over it, it’d never stop hurting. As much as she knew this, she didn’t want to deal with it. It was easier to pretend nothing had happened, easier to recoil from the pain and the loss and keep moving because _someone_ around here had to. It wasn’t fair. Not to her, not to Bella. Cassandra stood up.

“If you need more help with your homework, let me know,” she said. “I’m going to go get some food and see if I can get mom to eat.”

“Okay,” Alexander answered. “Hey Cassie?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re doing great. Thank you for doing stuff mom’s supposed to.”

Cassandra smiled softly, but she could feel the sharp sting of tears behind her eyes. “That’s what family does,” she said. “Take care of each other.”

“I know,” Alex replied. “But you’re also a kid too, kind of, and you’re taking care of us a lot now.” It just seemed right to him, that he thank her, because she didn’t _have_ to put her own sadness aside for them. He could tell, in some strange way, that the burden was getting to her already, but then it made sense. It wasn’t like Alexander could do what she was doing. He’d have fallen apart already.

“I guess so,” Cassandra answered. Then, she gave Alex one more strained smile, and ducked into the kitchen to see about getting Bella to eat. It was easier, though, wasn’t it? Taking care of them wasn’t as altruistic as it seemed like, not as selfless as people would claim it was. It was just a convenient excuse not to deal with her own pain. And yet, that wouldn’t work forever, would it?


End file.
